


Legend of Zelda: Requiem of Power

by Erinysceidae



Category: Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinysceidae/pseuds/Erinysceidae
Summary: An orphaned boy with a spritely companion, raised by the spirits in a secluded place, is called upon to seek out the powers of the Goddesses and claim his destiny."I will. I swear, on the sand, the wind and the water, that I will. I will protect those who can not protect themselves. I will be a Prince-- I will be a King-- that you can be proud of."(characters added as they appear)
Kudos: 4





	1. A Boy Among Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a query, a wonder: so often, Link is a child. What if Ganondorf were the child?  
What could have been a simple AU became a future. It became an examination of nature vs. nurture, an exploration of creatures, beings and possibilities, and it became a love letter to The Legend of Zelda. 
> 
> Please enjoy this work. It began as a notion, continued an expression of love, and I dare say may not end well.

The sun was just beginning her journey into the pale, scorched sky; the holy valley held the shadows of night tight in her stony hands. Poes drifted from from memorial spire to monument headstone, occasionally stopping to chitchat with one and other, to themselves, or to no one at all. They went about their routine seamlessly, just like they had every day before for decades; some for centuries.

The golden light of morning slid over the cliff top and upon the stone relief over the entrance to the Shrine of the Fierce Goddess; the translucent desert marble glowed in the shadowy gloom. The entryway, still frigid from the windswept night, slowly illuminated as sunlight poured into the valley.

From the temple entrance a tiny green-clad Poe came zipping, whirling and giggling with glee. "Oh my Goddesses! So exciting-- so excited!" she squealed, embers spilling and spiraling from her lantern as she spun recklessly through the air.

The narrow valley was full of grave markers of all shapes, sized and materials. One specific mausoleum was the source of the little poe's attentions; an open gazebo of white marble, aged shrouds tied around the narrow pillars to block out casual peeping eyes and the twisting winds that managed to get into the valley.

"Wake up, wake up! It's time to wake up!" the Poe squealed, passing through the shrouds and diving toward a makeshift bed. She grabbed the top blanket and yanked it away.

The bedding below-- several layers of fraying woven grass mats-- was unoccupied.

"Oh land, life and law, he's gone!" she squeaked. "I lost the Prince!"

"Ghola? I'm right here," came a voice from behind her.

In the center of the small mausoleum, sitting calmly in lotus position, was a young Gerudo boy. His only scrap of clothing was a loincloth, but his ears were lined with golden hoops and studs, and a gold and ruby ornamental crown rested on his forehead. He rolled his eyes at the frantic poe.

"I thought I'd lost you!" The tiny poe, Ghola, squeaked, "she woulda killed me if I lost THE PRINCE!"

"You're already dead, you can't..." he started to explain, but stopped as he noticed that she wasn't listening. She continued to wail and lament her imagined punishment.

He stretched his legs, leaned back and watched her gestures and flailings for a moment, before turning back to his meditations. Instead of returning to the lotus, he rolled backwards onto his shoulders and lifted his feet further and further over his head until his toes rested on the ground. As his weight shifted, the crowd slipped off his forehead, thin golden chains slithering to the floor. He grunted in frustration.

"But I found you! Yay! No one gets in trouble and we can both go see Maman!" Ghola concluded.

"Maman?" He swung his legs back over his head and pushed himself upward, landing on his feet. He didn't stay on his feet, however; gravity and his thin, gawky body conspired against him, and he landed unceremoniously on his rump.

"Ow! Every time," he muttered.

"S'cause your so tall. You were this tall once," Ghola said, sinking to a foot from the floor. She dipped down and grabbed the crown before rushing upward and draping the chains into his unruly hair, "But now you're this tall, big gangly Gangrel.

He ducked away from her tiny hands, quickly sorting out the chains and replacing the ornament upon his forehead. "Don't call me that in front of Maman," he said sternly as he grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed and pulled them on.

"Why, are you embarrassed? Gang-grel?" Ghola teased.

"No, I'm not. I like my name, it's the only one I've got, but Maman ordered me not to leave the valley. Falon's ranch is definitely out of the valley, and 'gangrel' is not exactly a respectable name for a _Prince,_" he snipped playfully, fastening his belt.

"Oh Goddesses, you're right! She's gonna be so mad if I mess up!" Ghola gasped, hiding her face in her hands.

Gangrel slipped his boots on, shook his head, tossed the curtain aside and headed out of the gazebo.

"Okay! I promise I won't mess up at all, okay? Gangrel?" Ghola said, bobbing confidently, then looking around the empty room. "Gangrel, where'd you go?! You need to eat before we go!"

"Are you coming, or not?" He called.

\----------

The Gerudo Prince ran his dark hands along the cool, softly glowing stone hall. Ghola floated along behind him, watching motes dance in the slim beams of light that drifted from the ceiling. To either side of the main hall stairways wound up to private chambers, long empty. There was an alter between the stairs, and beyond that a long torchlit hall, extending deep, deep into the mountain.

"Wow," Gangrel whispered, "I've never seen the temple lit up before. It's a lot bigger than I thought."

"The temple is way bigger than what you see here," Ghola said, lowering her lantern. "There are small prayer halls, sleeping chambers, store rooms and if you keep going down the hall you come to the temple proper. Those lanterns haven't been lit in like ten years. The Poes don't need them, and normals like you aren't allowed any further, so I wonder why..."

"Normals? I am the future King of the Gerudo, I can go where I want," Gangrel informed her.

"You're not a priestess, so no you can't. Only a follower of the Fierce Goddess can enter." Ghola gave a loud raspberry to the indignant prince. "The memories and memorials to Gerudo come and gone are locked within. The secret to entering the temple proper died with the last acolyte. She took up all her courage and for that the Fierce Wolf spared her, but then there was light, and She died. Her secrets were buried in no grave, lost to the dust."

"Ghola, are you... Wait, did you say wolf?"

The tiny poe spun in a circle and bobbed cheerily, "am I what? Courageous and amazing? Yes. I am."

"Y-you didn't really see a wolf, right? It was an illusion, or a dream... It had to be."

"Of course I didn't see a wolf, I wasn't there-- She was, and She did, but She's dead now," she said, twirling her lantern and throwing shadows across the halls. "Maman, there you are!"

Gangrel wasn't able to inquire further before a husky chuckle fell upon his ears as Maman materialized beside him. An enormous poe, easily as tall as the eleven year old Prince and-- lanky as he was-- many times as wide. Her tattered robe had once been of the same sage green as Ghola, but the centuries of ceaseless existing had faded her very essence, making her seem pale. A glimmer-y golden sheen of a crown, similar to Gangrel's own, rested on her shadow-hued brow.

"My Prince," she said, bowing low, "Sister Ghola."

"Maman," he replied, bowing lower.

She swatted the back of his head, nearly loosing his crown again. "A king bows to no one-- how many times must I tell you?"

"For as long as you are my Maman," he replied, looking up at her.

"Humility does not suit a king, you must be strong and stalwart-- but I can not be mad at you," she replied, her thin, bony hand brushing his hair back. "My handsome little Prince. You have said your prayers today, yes? You practiced the holy steps?"

"Of course Maman," he said.

Her eyes burned dim, and her face, though so dark as to be featureless at a distance, was full of concern, and sorrow, and agelessness. "You remember the tenets?"

"Of course, Maman."

"Speak them."

"The Three Goddesses created all," he recited. "They gave us life, the land and the laws. It is our duty to use our skills to protect these sacred things. Those with courage must do all they can. Those with wisdom must teach all they know. Those with power must protect all without. Strive to have these holy attributes. There is no sin in fear, only cowardice. There is no sin in foolishness, only ignorance. There is no sin in failure, only surrender."

"Hold them in your heart, my Prince, the kings of the past forgot them..." Maman said, placing her pitch black hand over his heart. She closed her eyes and began to chant. "Praise the Goddesses, creators of all--"

Ghola coughed, "uh, Maman? Focus."

"Hmm?" The ancient Poe intoned, looking between the two as though she had forgotten they were there. "Oh, my Prince, good morning, you have said your prayers?"

"I understand the importance of the tenets Maman," Gangrel said, hoping to get her back on topic, "but I'm sure you didn't call me here to hear me quote holy words."

"Yes, yes, I recall now. I have an important task for you-- and urgent task. One that will take you out of the valley, far into the desert. Are you ready to explore your kingdom?

"O-out? B-but you said not to leave the valley-- not until I was an adult," Gangrel said obediently.

"I did, I did." Maman said, her glowing eyes narrowing, "and did you listen to me when I said that?"

Gangrel looked to the side, grimacing, "yes... I listened."

"Did you, _Gangrel_?" she said. "I know about the goatherd girl, Falon."

His dark cheeks blanched; shame pulled his gaze to the cold, dim floor.

"Oh no! I didn't tell, I swear!" Ghola squeaked, waving her arms. "I promised I wouldn't, and I didn't! Not even a little!"

"I know, I believe you," his eyes turned to the tiny green Poe, and he gave a small smile before turning back to Maman, "I'm sorry Maman. Yes, I listened to you, but I didn't obey you. I tried to stay in the valley's shadow, but once I got into the sun there was so much to see. I had to know what was out there. I made a friend-- and I trust her."

She sighed, a dry and dusty sound. "I will not punish you for curiosity, Prince. I forbade you from leaving for my own well being, as much as for your safety. I worry, greatly, for you my little, little Prince. The world is much bigger, and much harsher, than you know." Her wide, luminescent eyes closed. "I will not punish you for breaking my rules, but time will tell if you will punish yourself for the consequences."

"...Maman?" Gangrel asked softly.

"No, now is not that time," she said. She twirled in the air, summoning her own large, bright lantern. Blackened by time and soot, the lantern was of an older style, different from the oil lamps and candle cages most of the poes carried. Maman twisted the fasteners on the top and opened it, causing the light within to pulse and twist. Holding the lantern with one hand, she reached in with the other and pulled out a long, glowing, indistinct shape-- far longer than the lantern itself. She held the glow out to Gangrel.

"Those with Power must protect those without. Will you accept your duty as a Prince? Will you protect those less powerful?"

"I-I don't have power."

"You are the Prince of the Gerudo, Son of Dragmire. You do have power. How will you use it?" she thrust the light-obscured item toward him again. "Will you protect those who cannotprotect themselves?"

Gangrel reached for the proffered items, but hesitated and looked at his own hands for a long moment.

He'd been barely a toddler when he'd last seen another Gerudo-- or so he had been told. They had dark skin and wide eyes, red hair and golden jewelry, just like him, the poes said. The Gerudo villages were always heavy with incense and song. They were happy and peaceful people; studious, strong and brave.

He wanted to say he remembered them; that he remembered something: flashes of color, certain smells, distant voices, anything.

He didn't. He'd never known them. If the words he’d heard outside the valley were true, he never would. He was alone in the world. A boy amongst ghosts.

He remembered fear. He remembered a bright, cold flash and being dropped into the sand, a warm, guiding light and then nothing but growing up in the Memorial Valley.

It made him angry.

It made him furious; a burning hatred festering in his heart toward whomever had done it, whomever had ordered it, for those who had allowed it, for those who hadn't defended themselves, for those that had died and left him alone, for himself not fighting harder-- No.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Violence was not the answer. It was never the answer.

He prayed, for the power to restrain himself, for the courage to keep going, for the wisdom to know that the past couldn't be changed, but the future was open. He pushed the anger down, bottled it up and turned it away.

Opening his eyes, he reached and took the item from her, pulling it close and clasping it in both hands, "I will. I swear, on the sand, the wind and the water, that I will. I will protect those who can not protect themselves. I will be a Prince-- I will be a King-- that you can be proud of."

The glow abated and revealed, clasped in his hands, two swords. Just over a foot each, but so sharp they nearly sang. Etched on the base of the blade was the symbol of the Gerudo and several old Gerudo runes, which meant nothing to him. The hilts were simple time-hardened wood and metal, with long red clothes tied around the blade collar.

He turned his arms and looked at the shining, deadly blades. There was power within the metal.

At his feet the dust began to prickle and sway.

The power to fight.

Power pulsed within him, with his heart beat.

The power to avenge.

The sand gave the power shape, concentric circles of scales dancing around him, crackling with power.

The power to kill.

"No!" He dropped the swords to the stone and stepped back; the dust fell still. "No, I changed my mind, I don't want it!"

With a sharp flash of light, the blades returned to him, materializing in two scabbards hooked to a belt around his waist.

Maman sighed heavily, "it was never truly a choice."

"No, life is sacred, I must protect it, not end it! I'm not a killer!" He screamed, pulling the swords from his belt and discarding them again.

"You made a promise to protect."

They returned, again.

"No, no, no!" he whimpered, this time trying to loose the scabbards themselves from his belt, "I won't be a murderer! I'm not a monster!"

Maman simply watched him struggle, her lantern distinctly dimmer now than before. "You must," she said, and nothing more.

Ghola flew to him, "Gangrel, calm down. Hey, look-- look at me-- look at this," she said, holding up her lantern.

Confused and struggling for composure, he looked the lantern; thin braided leather cords bound a cup of green glass; luminescent smoke drifting over the rim and inside a small, but bright orb of light rolled in slow circles. He stopped struggling with the scabbards and his eyes flickered between the lantern and Ghola.

"Hold out your hands," Ghola said.

Slowly, he brought his hands up, cupped in front of him.

She set the lantern in his hands, letting the unnatural warmth from it soothing his shaken nerves. Floating up to his face, she set a tiny hand on his cheek.

"You don't have to kill anyone. Swords are not for killing, they're for protecting," she said, drifting beside him and stroking his hairline gently.

"I don't have anyone to protect," he whispered.

Gangrel went silent, his eyes falling to the lantern in his hands. It was small, but glowed with a fierce, courageous light. 

"For now, you just have to protect yourself," Ghola whispered. "Don't worry, I'll go with you. I'll protect you. I'm good at that."

The lantern was heavy in his hands; he'd known Ghola as long as he could remember. Though silly and somewhat carefree, she was the most lucid poe in the valley, always concerned with his safety and well being. She was protective to the point of annoying, always bugging him to eat more, not to climb on things, not to pick up wild animals and insects, and to not have any fun unless she was involved. Whenever he got out of her sight, he always ended up messing up, or getting hurt, and she would have to clean him up, saying nothing, but never forgetting.

"Yeah, you are," he admitted.

"You mustn't dally, you must go beseech the Goddesses for their blessings," Maman said. "The Great Goddess, the Merciful Goddess and the Fierce Goddess. The Desert Colossus, the Oasis Library and the Memorial Hall."

"He's not a priestess, he won't be able to get into the Hall proper," Ghola said.

"He is the Prince. I imagine the Goddess with make an exception for him," Maman said.

Gangrel stuck his tongue out at Ghola, also holding her lantern out to her; she raspberried back, snatching her light back.

"Children, this is a serious time. Please." She twirled, holding a length of cloth as she came to face him again. She wrapped the cloth over his head and shoulders, "this will protect you, from the heat of the sun, and the chill of the moon. Go now. Pass through the Memorial Hall and speak to the Fierce Goddess. Beyond the hall you will find the Haunted Wasteland. The spirit guide there can take you to the Desert Colossus and the Desert Oasis. Go now, and be safe."

Gangrel nodded, running his fingers along the soft, cool shawl on his shoulders, "I will return-- and I will keep myself safe without killing anyone, I swear."

"Do what you must."


	2. Courage Moves You Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gangrel and Ghola attempt to enter the mysterious Temple of Courage.

The two had been following the torch lined hall for a while now-- long enough now that the energy and worry of taking on a exciting new quest had dulled. The worn walls seemed to be repeating: the same cracked stones in the same cracked places, the same lanterns guttering in the same holders. Gangrel had since pulled the shawl off his head, wearing it simply like a scarf to ward off the cold of the deep stone corridor.

"How did we get lost in a hallway with no turns?" Gangrel asked.

"Because you're not a priestess!" Ghola sighed.

"Well, you seem to think you know everything," Gangrel snapped, "why don't you do something?"

"Because I'm not a priestess!"

"But you were..." Gangrel bit his tongue and stared at her for a moment, before leaning against the wall and thinking.

He didn't know if she was frustrating because he was hungry and already tired, or because he was easy to anger at the best of times, or because she was just a pain in the butt, so he opted to take the fault himself. He knew that she knew things; he also knew she wouldn't admit she knew things. Some poes were acceptant, they knew they were dead, they knew who they were and they knew what they had to do. Other poes were avoidant, they knew who they were now, but couldn't acknowledge who they were before, and were lost and angry. Then, there was Ghola. He could tell she was happy as a poe, accepting and aware of being dead, and she spoke of the person she'd been often and with reverence, but— for no reason Gangrel could place— she avoided any admission that Ghola the Gerudo and Ghola the Poe were the same entity.

"Well, the girl before, She was a priestess, right?" he asked carefully, "what would She do?"

Ghola wobbled side to side thoughtfully, "She'd do the Fierce Prayer," she said eventually.\

"Do you know the Fierce Prayer?" Gangrel asked.

"Yes!" she chirped.

"Can you do it?"

"No!" she chirped.

He palmed his face and slid toward the floor.

"It involves foot work, and I'm not very skilled on the foot front," she said, her tiny black legs dangling from her green cowl like a marionette.

Gangrel sighed."I can't give up. I can't _give up_. I _can't_ give up. There is no sin in failure, but in surrender." He shifted his boots on the clean, grit-less stone.

He stared at his feet.

"Can you teach me the prayer?"

"What? You? No! Pssh, don't be silly-- no, I couldn't teach YOU the prayer, you're not a priestess, or an acolyte, or a holy woman, or anything."

"I'm the Prince!"

"Nope."

"Ghola, please."

"Oh, okay."

Giving a soft, scornful chuckle, Gangrel pushed himself back to his feet. "Okay, thank you. How do we do the prayer?"

Ghola bobbed thoughtfully. "Okay, first, stand with your feet together."

Gangrel did.

"Wait, no, move over here. Stand here," she said, gesturing to a specific tile engraved with the symbol of the Fierce Goddess. "All right, now. Clap your hands together gently and bow low, like you're addressing a Goddess. Stand again, slide your right foot forward as low as you can go, stretch your hands toward your foot as you go. Lean back and slide back to a standing position, spreading your arms. Now, pivot around, full circle, and do it again but switch sides, left for right, yeah?"

Following her instructions to the letter, Gangrel did the short prayer steps.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"Yep!"

"Nothing happened."

"Well, you're really bad at it. Try again, and really believe. Pray hard."

"Well, you didn't mention the praying."

"How is it a prayer if you're not praying? Go on, do it!" Ghola insisting, stomping her tiny foot on empty air.

"Well, what's the prayer?"

"I don't remember and it's not important, just think something pious and make sure you mean it! The Fierce Goddess rewards courage, it doesn't matter what you say, it's what you do and how you do it."

Gangrel considered this, then did the steps again, slowly, mouthing his morning prayers silently.

"Faster! They're holy steps, they must have rhythm and purpose. Grace, poise!"

"I'm sorry, I've never done these steps before, give me a moment to practice," he snapped.

He ran over the moves in his head, humming a little to himself and tapping his foot, sliding his feet on the sandy stone. He nodded, and tried again, quickly and gracefully.

Something changed. A soft, warm breeze filtered into the hall, and the torches took on a green hue. Further down the hall there was a light now, not a torch, but a doorway.

"Congrats! You know the Fierce Prayer now! Power can move mountains, but Courage moves you forward," Ghola said, swaying side to side calmly. "Let's go!"

"You are something else," Gangrel muttered, but he smiled.

"Ladies first!" Ghola chirped, zipping through the doorway.

The doorway brought them out upon a trellised stone walkway, which looked out over a great wide open space. Sparse lanterns offered just enough light to see the shapes of the structures. There was an additional level of walkways, visible through the wrought latticed path above. Beyond that, the walls seemed to rise on and on forever. Below, more pathways circled and criss-crossed the gaping cavernous depths. The air was warm and moist, smelling of moss and mist, and a strange faint clicking, grinding noise was present in the distance.

The temple was, indeed, way bigger than he had expected.

"Whoa," Gangrel said, peering over the edge of the pathway into the fog obscured abyss.

"You'd have to be pretty courageous to go down there," Ghola whispered.

"I don't think I'm ready for this."

Ghola pointed straight ahead, where a single, perfect, straight walkway crossed over the vast pit, to another doorway opposite them. "We just need to cross that."

"It doesn't have a railing," Gangrel observed.

"You have great balance! And I fly. No problem! The only thing we have to worry about is skulltulas."

"Skulltulas? The spiders with the skull shape on the back? That's something to worry about? I've killed those things on accident. Maman says you don't have to pray for bugs, but I felt bad about it. They're kinda cute."

"Those are just common cactus skulltulas, they're harmless-- and edible! But these are greater dungeon skulltulas, they're way bigger than common skulltulas."

"How big?"

Ghola pointed, "about that big, and that big, oh, and that one! He's real big."

Gangrel followed her gesture; his eyes finally adjusting to the dim light he noticed the source of the noise. Covering the towering walls of the pyramid-- he could see now the walls were not endless, just convergent-- were skulltulas. Dozens upon dozens, maybe hundreds, ticking, turning, crawling and creeping along the walls.

Until this day, the largest skulltula he'd ever seen had been about as big as his hand, fingers spread. The smallest skulltula he could see now had a leg span as long as his arm.

"Try not to get too close. You may be a pacifist, but they are not," Ghola said.

"Yeah," Gangrel said, "lets try to get out of here as quickly as we can."

"That's not very courageous," Ghola scolded.

"Well, neither am I, I guess," he said, beginning the perilous journey across the pathway. "We should leave here and come back later, after the other temples. I'll be braver with more experience under my belt."

"Don't be scared, Gangrel"

"I'm not."

"Good. Because the Fierce Goddess is not kind to cowards."

"I'm not a coward. Cowardice is a sin. I'm... I'm cautious." Gangrel glanced down into the vast, misty nothing below and felt his knees threaten to buckle. "Okay, I think I might be afraid of heights. This is the first good look I've gotten at them, and... Yeah, so, turns out: not a fan."

_ Have you brought fear into my temple, Boy?_

Gangrel froze. The voice, if you could even call it a voice, had not been something he could hear, but something he experienced deep inside. It vibrated into his very soul, high and cold, manifesting words in his head.

Below, the mist shrank away in a gust of wind, which pushed and buffeted against the walls, causing Skulltulas to drop, flailing into the darkness. Gangrel dropped to his knees and clutched the narrow path for all it was worth. Deep, deep in the darkness tiny lights were now visible. Either the skulltulas had not landed yet, or were too deep to be heard.

Ghola, carefree as ever, just flowed with the wild winds. "Wheeeeeeee!"

"Definitely, DEFINITELY do not like heights. Why can't I fly? Huh? I could really go for some flight right about now."

_You cower before my might and ask for dominion over the winds in the same breath? You have some gall, Boy._

"Ghola, what's going on?"

"Well, I'm p--"

_ SILENCE, ACOLYTE. Answer when I speak to you, Boy. Have you brought FEAR into MY TEMPLE?_

The winds blew harder, yanking at his scarf and sending small chunks of rock and strands of web past his head. Something he could only assume was a skulltula leg-- hopefully still attached to an unharmed skulltula-- smacked against his bare back, and he yelped.

"YES! YES I HAVE!" He yelled over the gale.

_What do you want, sinner?_

"I WANT TO LEAVE!"

The wind ceased instantly.

"Awww," Ghola whined, drifting to a stop.

_Leave, Coward. You are not welcome here._

Gangrel clung desperately to the pathway for a moment longer, regaining his breath. Below, the mist seemed to be thickened and was circling in the darkness.

"No," he said, when his voice returned.

_NO!?_

"No!" he called, "I must talk to the Fierce Goddess. I-I need to ask for her blessing!"

_I speak for the Goddess and I already have a Hero. He is fearless, and beloved by his people. He has killed countless monsters over the course of many lives. You, Coward, are not worth even acknowledging._

"But--"

From the darkness below, what he had thought was a cloud of mist circling like a shark, turned out to be something much more terrifying. The distant fog grew and grew as it approached. A huge, four-legged shape leapt up from the darkness and landed on nothing, shaking its massive, shaggy body.

_YOU WILL LEAVE! _The enormous, ethereal wolf snarled.

It was all Gangrel could do not to faint as the wolf stared at him and--

_The wolf howled, and the winds tore, pulling the very breath from the lungs of those nearby. It cut like blades, abrasive sand scouring to the bone. Behind it, controlling it, was the warrior on horseback, standing amongst the spilt braziers, flaming embers and dying women, holding aloft a sword that glowed with cold light._

_ \--_brought her enormous muzzle toward him and sniffed. A curious growl rumbled within her throat.

_I see,_ she said. _You will leave. I will speak to you only after you have seen my sisters._

He didn't move, staring into her vibrant blue eyes, each one nearly as large as his head. She stared back, unblinking. Under the terrifying beasts gaze, his limbs were like lead. He was well aware his fear wouldn't let him move until she freed him from this prison of her presence.

"L-la-ladies first," he stuttered.

She blinked.

Then, she laughed, and was gone.

Gangrel took a deep, deep breath. Shaking, he picked himself up, dusted himself off, gave the temple one last glance, caught Ghola's eye, nodded, and ran for the door as fast as his thin, trembling legs would carry him.

\-----

The pair rested in the shade of the cliffs not far from-- but also not too close to--the temple's exit. Vines grew amongst the rocks, sending deep roots into any earth they could find in the sandy wasteland, and Gangrel searched along them until he found a prize. One reasonably ripe melon, not yet cracked open by heat or beast.

He split it open on a rock and gobbled down half immediately, swallowing sweet mouthfuls of fruit flesh, and sucking the moisture from the stubborn, thick inside of the rind.

"I miss food sometimes," Ghola lamented.

"Are you hungry?" Gangrel asked.

"No, not really," she mused. "I remember food, and I remember hunger, but I don't feel hunger, I just sorta... occasionally remember that I haven't eaten. I feel like I should be hungry, but I'm not."

"That's weird," Gangrel said, biting into the other half of the melon.

"Yeah, it is. She didn't like melon that much anyway, so that's okay."

Gangrel stopped mid-bite, so he wouldn't miss anything. Carefully, curiously, he prompted her. "What did she like?"

"Skulltulas. You toss 'em in a fire pit, and it burns the hairs off 'em, and cooks 'em perfectly. You just crack 'em open and suck the meat out, soooooo yummy."

"Ew."

"No, they're delicious. I bet the giant ones in the temple would feed a whole village! I wonder if the Fierce Wolf would let you cook one, so you could tell me how it tastes, I wanna know if they taste better when they're bigger."

"I don't think so. The Wolf didn't seem to like me much... She scares me, and..." He swallowed nervously, "... my mind goes back, to that night. There was a wolf there, that night. I heard it howl. I thought it was a dream, until you mentioned the wolf before... But, wait... you were at the valley when I arrived there, weren't you?"

"Yeah! I was there!" Ghola said, bobbing up and down.

"Then, how do you know the Fierce Wolf was there, that night?"

"I saw her! I was there!" She said. Her bobbing slowly came to a stop. "No, She was there. She saw her!" she corrected.

Gangrel tried to parse this new information. "She was there, when they were killed... and you were in the valley," Gangrel said, taking another bite of melon.

A question hung on the tip of his tongue, but he was afraid of what the answer might be, so he went to a different topic. "I didn't know the Goddess was a wolf," he said.

"Well, the Goddess isn't, the Fierce Wolf is just a part of her, a spokeswoman, an agent, an avatar. The true Goddess would be too much to behold, so you just get the piece of her. Wolves are powerful and swift and strong and loyal, just like the Goddess, so it fits that her avatar be a wolf. There used to be lots of wolves all over the country, but they were hunted down centuries ago, and now you only find them off in the east."

"So... if I heard a wolf howling, that means it must have been her?"

"Yep! Although the last time she was out and about, and howling..." Ghola stopped and looked at him. "So, melon is delicious."

"She killed them," Gangrel said.

"Melon!" Ghola repeated, louder.

Gangrel threw the remaining melon chunk out into the sand and stared at Ghola, "is that why she hates me? She wanted us dead?"

"Hey, hey, hey, the Goddess doesn't want you dead-- the Goddess doesn't want anyone dead. She just wants people to be. Life and death are the same to her, it's a cycle, as long as you are, she loves you. She can't hate you, it's not in her nature. She was just angry because she's been alone, for years and years, and the first person to enter her holy sanctum-- her home-- was scared of her."

"She killed my family, I have every right to be scared of her."

"She didn't kill them!" Ghola snapped. She wilted and shook her head, "she did, but it wasn't her choice. Look, so, a warrior came to the village," Ghola said. "With a sword, and a bow, and an ultimatum. The wolf, she was summoned by him, and that can only mean one thing: he was the Goddess's Chosen One. The Goddess's Hero. The Wolf obeyed him because she had no other choice."

"Why would a warrior of the Goddess attack us?" Gangrel asked desperately.

Ghola looked at him, her luminescent eyes filled with pain. She wrung her tiny hands together, her lantern bobbing and jerking at the end of its rope like a hanged man.

"Please, Ghola, I need to know. I grew up in a graveyard, I know about death, and dying and... and being alone. But I don't know why. I just want to know... why was I left alone?"

"You weren't left alone. You weren't abandoned, you were our Prince, everyone loved you, and would have done anything to keep you safe," she looked at her tiny palms, "and did everything to save you."

Ghola had been in the valley, but She had been with the Gerudo. 'I'll protect you. I'm good at that.' were her words.

"You died because of me."

"No," Ghola said sternly, turning on him, her eyes glowing brilliant with adoration and anger, "no! Do not say that-- you _lived_ because of Her! He came to kill our Prince, and She couldn't allow that. So she took you, and she ran, and fighting happened, but she was a Fierce Acolyte, and courage was her strength."

"She shouldn't have done that," Gangrel said, "If you-- she, everyone-- had given me up you all would have lived."

"Maybe. Or maybe he would have killed them all anyway. She wasn't going to take that chance."

"If she had, maybe I wouldn't have had to live alone!"

"If that's what you want to believe, then fine. Blame her-- blame her for all their deaths, and she'd accept the burden, because it means you're alive."

"What does my life even mean? I'm a prince with no people, I'm useless--"

"She didn't do it to save her prince, she did it to save her brother!"

Gangrel faltered, his anger doused, his words lost. His wide eyes searched the horizon for an answer, but found only the blur of tears. He opened his mouth to question her, but all that escaped was a nervous hiccup.

"I'd do it again, too!" She pointed at him with a single, tiny accusing digit. "And don't you dare go dying to save anyone-- that's my thing."

"G-ghola," he whispered, swallowing his emotions thickly.

"Nope, I called it! You'll need to find your own thing, go in a different direction, maybe protecting people without killing, that sounds more your style."

He hiccuped several more times, before a tiny laugh escaped from him and he nodded. "Y-yeah, that sounds good."

"Good!" she chirped, swaying back and forth happily. "Wow, this adventure has been really eventful already! I can't wait to see what happens next!"

He looked at his friend, his tiny companion-- his sister-- and, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he smiled softly. She went through emotions so quickly it was astounding, but in the end she always came out happy. He was far, far too late to save her, but he could make her proud.

"I think I'd like to go to the Desert Colossus," he said.

"Okay!" Ghola chirped, quickly returning to her usual self. "The spirit guide is waiting for us, I'll follow her, you follow me. That way!"

Ghola took off across the sands, leaving Gangrel behind.

"Wait!" he called, pulling his scarf back up to shade his eyes.


	3. Tell Me What Power Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gangrel and Ghola approach the Desert Colossus. They deal with angry leevers, curious guay and the avatar of the Goddess of Power.   
The Goddess shares a story of her previous Champion, who bears a familiar name.

The Desert Colossus was visible long before they officially arrived at her. Towering over her domain the carving of the Great Goddess watched the desert sands shift and dance. Date trees spotted the sandy landscape, mostly grouping off to the east. A flock of orange-headed guay were visible on the fronds of palms and perched on the tall rocks. The sand was still, clean and bright.

"Wow."

"Neat, ain't it?" Ghola asked, drifting ahead. "This is my first trip, but She'd been here before. It used to be a bustling temple, for all the Priestesses of the Great Goddess. They'd have markets in the clearing, to celebrate all the majesty of the earth she created-- precious stones and metals, cotton, wool and silk, and some living things too, flowers, animals, you know, life would be nothing without fertile land to thrive on."

Any response was interrupted as the sand began to churn and boil. A large green creature erupted from the sand, spinning toward him and making a horrid grumbling roar.

"And now it's time to move," Ghola sang, as two more things joined the first one.

Gangrel followed the poe as she rushed toward a large stone; he scrambled onto it as the green beasts scratched at his boots with their gnarled horns.

"What is THAT?!"

"A leever! They're filter feeders that sift organic bits, and small animals, out of the sand. They're pretty territorial, so be careful."

"Yeah, I noticed!" Gangrel said, standing warily on the rock. "Hey look! They're going away-- good, I don't want to have hurt them, they're just trying to survive."

"They'll be back when you touch the sand again. You might be too big to eat now, but those horns aren't just for show. But that's okay, you can try out those neat swords Maman gave you. Leevers filter a lot of neat things out of the sand, and if you kill them you can keep what they've found; they often have rupees in their stomachs."

"Why would I want rupees? I mean, they're pretty, but I have everything I need."

"But you could trade them for goods and services!"

"With who? The poes don't use rupees," he said, sitting down on the stone and leaning on his palms. " ...Although, Falon showed me these goats they have that are so soft-- they make blankets and shawls out of the wool, and I want to buy blanket from her someday. She said she'd give me one when she learns to make them, but as a Prince it's my duty to pay her fair and square." He looked out across the sea of sand. "But not if I have to kill to get the rupees."

They sat there for several minutes, Gangrel sweating under the afternoon sun.

"If you just run we might make it to the temple," Ghola said.

"If I trip, I'm lunch," he said, then squinted and pointed, "what's that?"

There was a cavern over on the west side of the clearing, and outside it something moved, squirming and leaping across the sand.

"I think its a snake-- desert rope if I'm not mistaken-- they're pretty poisonous, so the leevers don't bother them."

"Hmm."

The rope, long and thick, moved slickly over the shifting terrain, sliding and heaving its scaly body through the sand, leaving strange crescents prints in its wake. It slithered past the rock Gangrel was seated on, heading toward the date trees in the east.

He watched it carefully, running his fingers in little loops and taps on the stone as he watched it, humming lightly to himself. He stood up and shifted his boots upon he rock, bobbing side to side a little. He spun around once, then nodded.

"All right, let's go," He said, grinning at Ghola.

"I thought you didn't want to run for it?" Ghola asked.

Gangrel said nothing and slid off the rock, allowing his boots to slide lightly into the gritty ground. He didn't waste a moment, drawing a thin crescent into the ground with the toe of his boot; leaping at the edge of his gesture, spinning in the air and landing some feet away. The world was silent but for the hiss of wind over sand and distant caw of guay; not a leever to be seen. There was no time for pride on the hot sands, only for movement; spin, kick, leap. Though his started clumsily, he got the hang of it quickly and laughed as he leapt and danced across the sand, scarf trailing in the air behind him.

When he reached the base of the temple, and the shade of the Great Goddess, he spun one last time and fell beck onto the stone, laying down and closing his eyes.

"That was awesome!" Ghola cheered, landing beside him.

"I can't believe that worked," he said, opening his eyes and then closing them quickly. "Oh, I am dizzy... I think I need to work on my technique."

"It was still awesome!"

"Thanks," he grinned, giggling.

There was a small, flappy sound.

"Oh look, a bird!" Ghola cheered.

"Hm?" Gangrel asked. He turned his head and looked. A large, healthy guay pecked his crown.

"No," he said, turning his head away from the bird, "That's mine."

"Mine," repeated the guay.

Gangrel looked at it, then at Ghola. He sat up; the guay leapt a few steps back.

"Hello," he said.

"No," said the guay.

Gangrel giggled.

The guay giggled.

"I like this thing," he said, gesturing to the bird.

"Well, that's good, because there's a bunch of them," Ghola said, pointing upwards.

Covering the Great Goddess, the nearby stones and the carved reliefs of the temple there were dozens and dozens of guay.

"Oh sand," he muttered. "Why are these temples covered in swarms of things?"

"Holy places are safe places, usually."

Gangrel scooted back, but as he moved the guay followed-- and several of the guay perched elsewhere descended closer, watching him. He thought for a moment. Standing up, he pulled the crown off and waved it. The beady red eyes of the flock followed it hungrily.

"Okay, so, they like shiny things," he said, putting the crown back on.

The first brave guay, who had already pecked at the crown once, hopped closer.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," Gangrel said, watching it. He held out his hand. The guay looked at it, turning its head this way and that. Then, without warning, it leapt onto his wrist.

"You've got a friend!" Ghola said.

"I do!" Gangrel laughed. The guay hopped up his arm, and onto his head where it began to peck at the crown again.

"No, no," Gangrel said, nudging the bird off his head and back onto his hand. He ran his fingers at his hair, hiding the chains beneath his red locks. "This is mine. It's my heritage, and I'm afraid you can't have it."

The guay looked at him, then hopped on his shoulder and began to peck at his earrings.

"Hey!" Gangrel laughed again, "okay, I guess I have enough of those."

He reached to his ear and loosed one of the golden hoops. "Do you want this?" he asked.

The guay pecked at it, taking it and dropping it; it bounced to the stone below.

Gangrel knelt for picked the hoop up; the guay hopped to the ground as well. "I guess earrings are hard to wear when you don't have ears, huh? Oh, I know! Here, give me your leg."

The guay tilted its head, then hopped away from him. Hesitating, it eyed him; a single hop brought it closer, then another. Gangrel reached for the bird, who hopped back again. Then forward again.

He grabbed the bird and fastened the earring around its leg as quickly as he could, with much squawking and flapping of wings. The other guay cawed and called, angry at the man-handling of their brother. As soon as he released the guay it flew up onto the Great Goddess, setting atop one of her breasts. It screeched down at Gangrel angrily, before shaking and pecking at its leg.

Gangrel frowned, "maybe I shouldn't have done that. I just wanted to share."

"Birds are weird, maybe they'll hate you and go away now."

"I don't want them to hate me! I wanted do something nice!"

But, up on the goddess, the other guay were looking their brother over, and the brave guay seemed to be adjusting to the bauble quickly. He shook his leg at the others, the shiny golden hoop wobbling above his scaly black toes. They cawed jealously as he strode proudly across the goddess's bust.

"Well, isn't he cock of the walk?" Ghola asked.

Gangrel looked at her curiously, "Is he? What's a cock?"

"Er," Ghola balked for a moment, before recalling the words she'd just said, "heh, ah, it's a male cucco. They're very prideful."

"Then why do you seem embarrassed?" he asked.

"The females are hens, and the babies are chicks! A male cat is a tom, but a female is a queen. A male dog is just a dog, but a female is -- you know what, never mind, look! He's leaving!"

The earring wearing guay took off, flying toward the date trees.

"I hope I didn't make him too mad," Gangrel said, watching him go.

"He's just a guay, what does it matter?"

"Because he's a living thing, and life is sacred. And living is hard and scary, I don't want to make it any harder for anyone, I just want everyone to be safe, and happy."

"Gangrel, it's a bird," Ghola said.

"All life is sacred," he repeated.

"And death is inevitable," Ghola reminded him, "life only happens if there is also death. Death is important too."

"But the time between gaining life and losing it-- and gaining death-- shouldn't be made any more difficult."

"Death is great," she snipped.

"I think you're a little biased," he mumbled.

"Hey, he's back! I shall call him King Guay. Welcome back, King Guay!"

The King dropped something at Gangrel's feet and hopped back, watching him for a moment, before fluffing his plumage and beginning to preen.

"You weird, Ghola," Gangrel said as he crouched and picked the thing up. It was a date. "I am getting pretty hungry. Thank you, uh, King Guay.”

Grooming was more important than silly noises at the moment, and the King ignored him.

Gangrel wiped the date off and popped it in his mouth and chewed idly. "I don't think we'll make it back to the valley before sundown." He spat the pit into the sand and watched as three leevers surfaced and fought over it.

"Oh, no-- we were never meant to make it in one day! You'd make yourself sick running around that much! We need to set up a camp for the night! I got the fire covered," Ghola said, waving her lantern.

"Fire is good, but we don't have anything to burn. There aren't any trees close enough, and I don't know if I can get all the way to one without messing up and getting mauled by a leever. I don't want to try my luck."

"Well, we could explore the temple. Maybe there's something in there."

"Worth a try, I guess," Gangrel said. "Even if there isn't, it'll be safer in there than out here."

The temple foyer was thick with sands blown in by the wind. It was dim, illuminated only by the afternoon sun; two desert rope statues stood in the gloom, their red gemstone eyes glimmering in the light.Stairs ran up the center of the room, to a second level. On either side of the steps there were ceramic pots; or there had been, one was already shattered, the other wobbled of its own volition as Gangrel approached. Curious, he approached it.

"Ghola, can you bring your lantern? I think there's something in here."

Drifting over with her lantern held proudly, she illuminated the clay pot. The pot wobbled again, and then crumbled into pieces, revealing a small green bottle.

"That's weird," Gangrel said.

"It must have been enchanted a long time ago. Most enchantments don't last very long, especially after the caster has passed," Ghola informed him.

"What is this?" Gangrel asked, turning the bottle over in his hands.

"Looks like a magic potion to me."

"Well, yeah, but what is it?"

"No, it is literally magic potion. It re-invigorates you so you can cast more magic. Although, you have to have magic power to begin with for it to matter."

"Oh," Gangrel said, sliding it into his belt. "seems a shame to just leave it here."

"You look silly like that," Ghola said.

"Well, I didn't bring a bag. Whose gonna see me, anyway?"

Ghola shrugged and turned, drifting up the stairs. "Hey, Armos! These guys are neat, they're statues, but they come to life if you touch them! Sometimes they explode!"

"Don't touch it then!"

"Why not? It's not a big explosion, and they aren't even alive, so they can't die." Ghola said, poking one of the armos furtively. "Wake up wake up wake up! Stupid statue, why won't you, wake UP!" she kicked the statue with a tiny foot, which did nothing at all to anyone.

"Ghola, leave it alone," Gangrel said, looking at the statue. "I like it. It looks kinda like a wild pig. What's this symbol?"

The poe peered at it, "That is a variation of the Fierce Goddess' symbol," she said, turning around and showing the faded symbol embroidered on her cowl, "it's part of what gives it life."

"Neat," he said, petting the statue gently.

The armos gave a rumble and stuttered to life, color and light covering its stonework. It growled and hopped.

"Now it's time to move again!" Ghola sang, pulling Gangrel back down the steps as the armos whirled and growled.

"I didn't mean to do it!"

"Well, you did. Too late now."

With a final rumble and a boom the armos exploded.

"Oh no! I really didn't mean to do that," Gangrel whined. "I know, I know, it wasn't alive-- but someone built that, and someone enchanted it, and now it's broken."

"Yeah, but that's what it was designed to do. It's fulfilled it's purpose, thanks to you. If you must be all emotional, be happy for it."

Gangrel looked at her doubtfully, but conceded, nodding.

"And it dropped loot!" she cheered. "Quick, come get a heart before it evaporates!"

"A heart?" Gangrel asked, gesturing to his chest, "Like, a thump-thump living flesh heart? You said it wasn't alive."

"Ew, no, that's gross. You're gross. It's just magic-- sometimes when you kill a monster, or destroy an enchantment, you get some of the life force back. It's no substitute for a meal and a nice night of sleep, but it'll keep you going in a pinch."

He looked down at the small, faintly glowing red essence; it beat faintly. It didn't look entirely real, but he supposed that was because, in a way, it wasn't. It was a thing of of magic, aether and idea. He picked it up and it quickly dissipated, but he did feel less hungry.

"There's a rug here, we could burn it," Ghola added, "it'll probably smell awful, but it's still better than freezing to death. Why don't you cut some pieces off it, that way we don't have to destroy the other 'precious little piggy statue.'"

"That's not what I called them," Gangrel said sourly. "Cut it with what? The pots pieces aren't sharp at all, and this is a thick rug."

"Uh, Gangrel? Swords."

"Oh!" He unsheathed one of the swords and held it in his hand. While he detested violence, a tool was a tool.

It was strange how perfect it felt in his hands. The weight was just right, the blade was shining and sharp and the cloth guard was soft and light. He twisted his wrist and waved it. It moved through the air exactly as he wanted it too.

He slashed at the rug beneath his feet and cut through the thick, ancient carpet as easy as air. The blade shone. A few more slashes and this corner of carpet was small, manageable pieces. The stone beneath the rug was scored with thin lines, but the blade was as still sharp, smooth and unmarred.

He ran his thumb across the dull side of the sword, then curiosity got the best of him and he was about to run his thumb along the sharp edge when a voice interrupted him.

_I would't do that if I were you. _This voice was deep and warm, resonating within him in the same way as the Fierce Wolf's voice, but different; comforting, and some how familiar.

Gangrel gasped and dropped his sword.

_ I have been watching you, Little One._

"Are you the Great Goddess?"

_I am her agent, yes._

"I am honored by your presence," Gangrel said, bowing so low his crown fell off.

_Stand. You need not bow to me, we have known each other a long, long time._

He retrieved the crown and stood, re-affixing it.

_Tell me what Power is._

Gangrel's thick red eyebrows fretted.

"Power is a weapon used against the weak. The powerful are supposed to protect the weak, but that's not how it happens. Power is a cold, white sword spilling blood under the moonlight for no reason. No reason at all."

_Why do you say this?_

"I have seen it. A powerful man killed the Gerudo. He wanted to kill me, and I could do nothing," Gangrel said, staring at the floor.

_Oh, Child. You were so small. No one could have expected you to do anything. Turn to me, I am here with you._

Gangrel turned.

An enormous boar of sand and flame lay just outside the doorway, far larger than the temples inner chamber, her head alone too large to fit through the door. Her eyes were wide and bright, like fire; like a Gerudo. Her tusks were smooth and white, the tips capped with gold, her ears and nose were pierced and burning in the fur of her forehead was the symbol of the Great Goddess: two crescents the upper point of one connecting the lower point of the other, forming into one flowing line. The free points each held an orb.

_Power is not evil. It is not good. It is an aspect, a tool, a resource. I am power. Do you fear me?_

"No," Gangrel whispered, taking several steps toward the Great Boar. "You're amazing."

_And all my power will be yours, Little Piglet._

"No. I... I don't want it."

_It was never a choice. This power has been yours since long before your birth. You can not fight it._

Gangrel was standing right in front of her now, his hand reaching for her, drawn to her.

"It's not wise to touch a Goddess!" Ghola said quickly, "it can be overwhelming! People have died."

Gangrel hesitated, so close he could feel the warmth from her holy fur. He looked into her eyes and saw so many things: danger was not one of them. His hand touched the rim of her flat nose. The breath from her enormous nostrils was the hot desert wind, her fur the soft and fragrant desert grass, her tusks the pearly marble of the mountains.

He could feel the very pulse of the world under her skin; his breath hitched and his heart stopped. In an instant, there were more thoughts and feelings within in his young mind than there were stars in the sky. He saw power. Power in nature: the first growth of spring cracking a stone, a mountain throwing magma and ash miles into the sky, the gently flowing river carving a canyon into the earth. Power in men: building walls, damming rivers, taming fire and felling forests. Power in minds: mathematics beyond numbers, particles split into pure energy, weapons that turned the land to glass. Power, great and stunning, always changing, building and destroying, growing and felling. The balance of power shifted, but power continued to be.

He yanked his hand away from her as though he had been burned, and looked into her eyes.

"T-there's so much," he said, collapsing to the floor. "I'm scared."

_ Hold your fear, and know it. Fear not Power, but what Power can do. Know that you have Power, and the choice is in how you use it. _She moved her great snout closer to him and he leaned into her warmth, threading his arms into her fur.

"Okay. I'll try." He hesitated, then shook his head, resting it against her, "I will. I will choose the right choice. I will do the right thing."

She said silent, and seemed to tense.

_May I tell you a story, Child?_

_ "_Anything," he said, dropping his embrace and looking at her, smiling.

_Sit with me, Piglet. This story is true, and important._

Gangrel sat and leaned against her huge snout.

_Once, long before you were born, during the reign of the previous Gerudo King, the Kingdom to the East, Hyrule, housed a great and powerful relic._

_ The Hylians hid it. Those who knew of it feared it and spoke of it in hushed voices. It gives supreme power, they said. If a corrupt heart were to use it, the world would be destroyed, they said. It is a holy item and should not be defiled by mortal hands, they said. So, they locked it way behind many locks, both physical and magical, and ignored it._

_ The Gerudo King heard of the Kingdom's relic, and it's power and potential danger. He went to the kingdom to see what kind of Kingdom would hold such a thing, and how they had contained it._

_ Hyrule was a beautiful land, overflowing with nature's bounty, so rich in resources that they were most were able to dance and wile the days away. A wise and courageous Kingdom, but not a powerful one. They had no true army and few warriors-- something the Gerudo King had in excess. He went to the King of the Kingdom and offered an alliance._

_ 'Help us, and let us help you,' he asked of the Kingdom. 'You have so much, and we scrounge the desert to survive. We will protect you and your treasures, if you merely share what you have with us.'_

_ But the kingdom scoffed at his offer. The Gerudo King was offended by their reckless disregard for protection. If another Kingdom came along and sought to steal the relic they easily could, and then, as far as Hyrule believed, the world would end. The King offered protection a second time._

_ The King of Hyrule showed The Gerudo King the Temple, the locks, the protections, and said they were sufficient. The Relic was safe, impossible to reach._

_ The Gerudo King considered the locks, the magics and the few who had knowledge of them. He insisted it was not safe, that with enough skill, or just luck, a child could get through these precautions. A third time, he offered his protection._

_ Again, he was refused, and this time he was told to leave and not return._

_ So, for the sake of the world, he showed them he was right, and took the relic._

_ 'You are an evil man, and will destroy the world' they told him._

_ 'You are foolish men, who think themselves wise; cowards, who call themselves heroes.' he told them._

_ He saw the relic, and saw the truth. The relic was powerful, and dangerous, certainly, for it would grant the one who touched it one wish. The Gerudo King held the relic and made his wish-- do you know what he wished for?_

"Power?" Gangrel asked.

_He already had power. He wished to have the land of Hyrule. The beautiful, lush land that overflowed with natures bounty was his only desire. 'Let this land belong to me,' he said, 'and I will protect it and any man, woman or beast which enters it will be welcome, and any enemy of the peace I have brought will face me.'_

"That sounds amazing," Gangrel said, "but I get a feeling that this doesn't end well."

_He welcomed man, woman and beast, and they came. The city grew, harboring not only Hylians and Gerudos, Zoras and Gorons, but distant strangers from Labrynna and Holodrum, Subrosians-- and creatures more familiar, but stranger yet, Moblins, Redeads and Poes too came to make their peace. And this scared the humans. They called the Gerudo King a tyrant and a master of monsters._

_ They say the Kingdom of Hyrule reflects its King, and as the Gerudo King grew sad and disheartened, so did the land. He began to doubt even himself._

_ Two Heroes sought to overthrow him. They were the Hero of Wisdom, and the Hero of Courage-- the Heroes of my Sisters. They succeeded so well that this story I just told you never happened._

Gangrel's brows knitted, "but, you said it was true."

_It was-- but the Hero of Courage has another name--_

"The Hero of Time!" Ghola interrupted, "he's a pretty neat guy. He's not afraid of anything, even when he should be."

_Yes, the Hero of Time. Having defeated the Gerudo King, the Hero returned to the time in which the Gerudo King first arrived in Hyrule. _The Great Boar's voice grew angry._ They jailed him, charging him for his crimes: theft, betrayal, usurpation-- crimes he had, in this time, not yet committed. Crime that was not crime, but a desire, a wish, a hope for safety and prosperity-- the use of power. And then, _she snorted, _They murdered him._

"What?"

_They called it an execution. They called him a criminal, a warlord and a monster all because he did what he believed to be the right thing._

Gangrel looked out across the desert for several moments, silent. The cloudless sky glowed like fire as the sun set. "I understand," he said. He yawned, and hid his face in her fur and took in the scent of desert and god.

_Sleepy, Little One?_

"No," he mumbled, "I want to hear more."

_That is the end of that story,_ the Boar said.

"Can you tell me another?"

"You are to tired!" Ghola said, settling on his head. "Look at you, you're already half asleep!"

"No I'm not," he said. No one was convinced.

"I knew if you sat down you'd fall asleep. Lazybones, the sun is barely down!"

_He's had a long day,_ The Great Boar said.

Gangrel pulled his legs up under himself and curled against her. "Do you know any happy stories? One where no one suffers, and no one dies..."

_I'm sure I can think of one for you,_ she said.

Gangrel smiled, and listened, and fell asleep, feeling happier and safer than he could ever remember feeling.


	4. Master Using it and You Can Have It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avatar of the Great Goddess teaches the abilities that come with mastery over Power.

Gangrel woke on the stone floor, stiff, sore but happy. He was only a few feet from the temple door, where the Great Boar's muzzle had rested the night before, and the warmth of the morning was already beginning to creep in. He could hear guays cawing outside, and smelled something strange in the air. Strange and amazing; his stomach snarled at him to find out what it was.

"Ow ow ow," he moaned, rubbing his stubborn legs. He took a few painful steps outside, looking around.

"Morning, Sleepyhead!" Ghola announced.

"I imagine you are hungry."

He recognized this voice as the Great Boar's, but instead of a nigh-unreal, soul-enflaming idea of sound, it was a normal voice. Just off the temple landing there was a circle of stones in the sand, with a fire crackling within it. An animal was roasting on a spit over the flames, and tending the fire was a creature-woman that he knew, without questioning, was the Great Boar. She looked at him and smiled a wide tusk-framed smile.

"Some things are easier with hands," she said, wiggling her sturdy fingers at him. Her skin was even darker than his, and her hair a deeper red, shorn from the sides of her head, and standing up over the top. She wore a crown of the symbol of the Great Goddess.

"That smells amazing," Gangrel said, "what is it?"

"Wild boar," she said.

He paused and stared at her.

The Great Boar laughed and nodded to Ghola, "you were right, Poe-child."

"I know my Ganny," Ghola replied.

"From what Ghola has told me, I'm surprised that you even eat flesh," the Boar said.

"I can't really be picky," Gangrel called, shrugging. "I don't want to kill anyone, but I have to eat something. I'm not a very good hunter though."

"Stop yelling and come over here!" Ghola called back.

"The leevers won't bother you, not with me here," The Boar said. "Come and eat! The pig is nearly done, I have sharp root, cactus meats and prickly pear juice."

"Wow," Gangrel said, "that's quite a feast."

"Feast, Piglet? Not nearly. The feasts I have seen would amaze you-- great galas thrown in the name of the Great Goddess-- sweet corn, squash, beans and sprouts, salads as green as the Fierce Wolf's hide, whole spit-roasted bulls, hogs, goats, chickens and catfish bigger than you. Baskets of sugar root and toasted honey ants, wines and meads and juices galore-- those were the good days."

"I don't know what most of those things are," Gangrel started, but was cut off.

"And skulltulas?" Ghola asked.

"Tossed in the fire until they cracked open, the best appetizer," The Boar said.

"Mmmmm, skulltulas," Ghola cooed.  
Gangrel made a face. "I'll stick with melon and sweet potatoes. Sometimes there's honeysuckle. I love it when the honeysuckle is in bloom, and you catch them at the right time, with the drops of sweetness in them and you put them in a jug with water, so it gets just a little sweet, it's the best! Although, one time, Falon gave me this weird gooey, sour-sweet-something white lump of... of something. It was called... cheese, I think? It was really weird and I hated it, but she made me try more and I started to like it."

"Who is this Falon?" The Boar asked, ripping a chunk of roast boar off with her bare hands and handing it to Gangrel.

"A girl," Gangrel said, taking the hot meat, passing it from hand to hand gingerly.

"Not a Gerudo, though?"

"She said her great, great grandmother mighta been a Gerudo, because red hair runs in the family. She's a goat herder, and her family lives in valley to the east of the Memorial Valley. It's really hard to get to from the desert, but easy if you just climb over the hills." He took a bite, licked the oils off his lips and stared at the meat with wide eyes. A few ravenous bites and it was gone. "I forgot how hungry I was until I actually tasted it," he said, settling down onto the sand. "That was amazing."

"Over the hills from the Memorial Valley," she repeated, "The old training grounds?"

"Yep!" Ghola added.

"I guess so. The building was there before Falon's family arrived. She told me they found a lot of neat old stuff in crates and things. She's real nice. She gave me these boots! They used to belong to her Dad, but he got better ones, so she took 'em for me," He said, wiggling a boot in the Boar's direction. "I don't have to worry about stepping on burrs and spikes or hot sand, or anything with 'em."

"I don't think Maman bought your story that you found them tucked behind some rocks," Ghola muttered. "Who leaves Hylian boots in the desert?"

The Boar chuckled. She fished a blackened vegetable out of the coals, brushing the soot off and popping it in half. She set it on a small dish of desert glass-- and offered it to Gangrel.

"You find all kinds of things in the desert-- Thank you," he said, taking it from her. "I found old weapons, rupees, clothes-- I found these pants! They're really big, but I also found a rope-- and now I've got this sword-belt, which helps."

"They're meant to go around a woman's hips-- not a little boys waist," The Boar chuckled, watching Gangrel peel the burnt skin away from the soft yellow flesh of the tuber. Between them, Ghola put her hands to an approximate hip location and bobbled about in a way that may have been a dance.

"Really? Women must have really big hips," Gangrel mused, looking for somewhere to discard the vegetable skin.

"If they're lucky," the Boar smirked.

From a nearby rock a guay squawked. Gangrel looked at them, then tossed the burnt peel closer to the birds, who descended upon it. The Boar handed him another dish of cactus meats.

"I don't usually eat this much," he said, taking the dish.  
"In the morning, at least," Ghola teased, still dancing.

"I'm not sure I can eat any more," he admitted, ignoring the poe.

"You are a growing boy, and you have a long morning ahead of you, Piglet. I have a gift for you, but you must learn to use it."

"You've already done so much," Gangrel said, popping a strip of cactus in his mouth.

"Not enough," she said, staring at the steadily rising sun.

Gangrel picked from the plate, occasionally tossing a piece toward the guays. Amongst them he spotted the King, his earring-anklet sparkling. The brave bird seemed to be taking his new title seriously-- whether this was because of his new sparkly or just his bravery was uncertain-- and was posturing at the larger birds to let the smaller ones feed too. Unable to take another bite, Gangrel tossed the remains to the hungry creatures.

"Juice?" The Boar asked.

"I don't think I can fit anymore," he said, resting his hand on his belly.

She laughed, and made a gesture over the shallow bowl. "Water, maybe?"

Gangrel grimaced, but it slowly became a smile and took the proffered vessel and drank carefully, not spilling a drop. Then, with a contented sigh, he lay back in the sand and patted his stomach. "Yes. Life is good."

"Do you need a moment before we start your training?"

"Yeah," he said, "I haven't prayed yet."

The Boar laughed, "I'm right here."

"Yes, and I must show my appreciation."

"I already know."

"You are but one of three. I cherish you, and your gifts, but I must pray. I can't start the day without my prayers. I promised Maman," he said, sitting up.

"And if I forbid you?"

Gangrel looked at her. She crossed her arms and looked down at him.

His hands raked the sand nervously, and he struggled to maintain eye contact with the representative of the Goddess of Power. "Then," he said painfully, "I would apologize. But, with all due respect, the prayers must be said."

She cocked a bushy eyebrow at him and watched him fidget before her. Then, her thin lips cracked a smile and she laughed. "Very well, I will join you."

The relief was almost palpable as he let himself breath again. He climbed to his feet and made his way toward the temple entrance, where the firm stone would better suit prayer. He brushed the sand off himself as best he could, which was an exercise in futility until The Boar came up beside him and whisked the sand away with one wave of her hand.

"I've never prayed with another person before," he said. "The poes taught me, but never joined in. They said prayers are for the living, and the dead have their own way."

"We do!" Ghola chirped, turning to The Boar, "Hey. How you doing?"

Gangrel giggled, before clearing his throat, putting on a serious expression and taking his prayer stance.

He clasped his hands together and bowed his head. The Boar followed his lead.

"Praise the Goddesses."

He opened his arms, gesturing to the ground.

"Praise the Great Goddess, who gave us land. Who gave us the sand, and the power to tame it."

He swept his arms upward, and flourished them to the sides.

"Praise the Fierce Goddess, who gave us life. Who gave us the wind, and the courage to stand against it."

He brought his arms around, palms flat toward the ground, waving them inward.

"Praise the Merciful Goddess, who gave us law. Who gave us water, and the wisdom to use it."

He clasped his hands together, and began the motions over again. "May I use the power I have been given to protect the land, lives and laws. May I find the courage to face my life, and my eventual death, with bravery. May I earn the wisdom to know right from wrong, and may my choices cause no harm."

Silently, he repeated the entire thing twice more.

When he was done, he looked at the Boar and smiled. His smile faded, though, as he saw her expression; sad, pained and heartbroken.

"I-I'm sorry, if I've off-offended you!" he said, falling to his knees in apology.

"That was one of the most sincere prayers I have ever heard-- and I have heard all of them." She set a hand on his shoulder.

"My prayers give me strength. There's a darkness inside, sometimes. I must pray sincerely, or I will never drown him out. Honesty and sincerity keep me human. I must be more than I am," he said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked up at The Boar, "I want to use my power well, I want to be courageous, I want to be wise-- but it all seems impossible."

"My little Hero, you will have all of these things. Let me give you my gift," she said. She knelt in front of him, removed his crown and planted a gentle kiss on his brow.

A warmth grew inside him, starting in his chest and blossoming outward, spreading roots of light throughout his soul; for a moment he knew true, immeasurable confidence.

She placed the crown back on his head, placing the delicate chains with a gentle touch, and brushing rogue strands of hair from his brow.

"As my Merciful Sister governs the waters, wisdom and the rules of reality, and my Fierce Sister governs the winds, courage and the ticking of time, I govern the sand, power and the fabric of space. Sand is fickle, and power is already yours, but space will obey you. It will take time, practice and finesse, but do not give up. You have my blessing."

"Space?" Gangrel asked, awe filling his eyes.

"Space. All the world with move to your whim. In time, here and there will be the same to you. For now, we shall start with movement. Do you see the magic container, laying where it dropped in your sleep?" she gestured through the temple doors, where the tall green bottle lay on the stone.

"Oh! My potion, yeah! I see it."

"I'll get it!" Ghola said.

"No, wait Ghola-- Piglet, stand here, and bring it to you. Concentrate and focus. Hold out your hands and order the bottle to come to you."

Gangrel held his hand out and concentrated.

In the doorway, the bottle wobbled.

"Very good, a little more effort. If it helps, imagine your hand grasping it, and pulling it closer."

His bushy brows knit as he focused. The bottle shuddered, but stayed in place. His frustration began to sink in the pit of his stomach.

"Come on, come here, come here!" He demanded. it jiggled again, wobbling upright.

"Keep trying."

"I am trying!" he snapped.

"Gangrel," Ghola chided.

He gave Ghola a sharp glare. She returned it with change, flitted up to his face and glowering back just a few inches from him.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his arms to his sides and took a deep breath. His lips moved as he recited his prayers silently. He gave a short, snorty sigh and nodded.

"I apologize for my outburst," he said.

"Keep trying," The Boar said again.

"Maybe if you say please," Ghola suggested.

The Boar chuckled, but Gangrel nodded, raising his hand again, he imagined gripping the neck of the bottle and picking it up. "Please, come to me," he said.  
Skipping like a stone, the bottle hopped a few feet, then flew straight into his waiting hand.

"I did it!"

"Congratulations! You can move a thing! A small thing, but it's a start!"

"Good job, Piglet, you did well. Unconventional, but well." With a small gesture the bottle floated out of his hand and back to the ground. "Now, push it away. Propel it into the wall. Shatter it."

"That seems wasteful."

"That potion is decades old, well beyond useful. Also, you do not need it. Your magic reserves are small yet, but will grow exponentially with practice, and refill quickly."

"Besides, throwing things is a great way to get people to leave you alone!" Ghola added. "You can push pots at them, or sand, or them! They're like 'grrr' and you're like 'whoa! Nope!' and they go sliiiiiiide."

"Really? Can I use it to move people? To stop them?"

"Certainly. Not easily, at first, but with time you can do anything. Let us start small, anything you can take in your hand."

"I could take anything in my hand though, couldn't I?" Gangrel asked.

"No, not quite, not yet. The air touches you, but you can not hold it. Water can hold you, but you are poorly equipped to hold water, as it will slide away from your hands. Spirits can choose how tangible they wish to be, so at your level you could not use your magic on, say, Ghola. There are always ways around things though, so you must search for alternatives. Experience is the best teacher. Now, throw the bottle."

Gangrel looked at the bottle, "all right. Go. Go please." The bottle wobbled, and hopped toward him.

"No-- go. Please, go. Away."

The bottle wobbled, as though confused.

"If politeness worked for bringing it to you, maybe be rude," Ghola said.

Gangrel grimaced, and begrudgingly hunched his shoulders. He cast his arm out at the bottle dismissively, "GO!"

The bottle shook just once, then rocketed across the stone and against the temple wall, shattering into dust and splattering the contents in a wide circle.

He squeaked, clapping his hands over his mouth.

"WOO!" Ghola cheered.

"Your emotions are very powerful," The Boar said. "But you let them control you. The bottle was a solid object, with moderate mass. It is easy to move, lift, manipulate. But you could just as easily do that with your own hands. A large object is more difficult to move bare handed, but easily moved by magic."

A large cube of stone thudded into existence, startling all the nearby guay into the air.

"Try to push this the same way you pushed the bottle."

Gangrel looked at the block, which came up to his waist, and considered it.

"Again, if it helps, imagine the magic as hands, pushing the object."

He pictured two large hands, and silently asked them to push the block.

The block didn't budge, however he stumbled back several steps. "Agh! What happened?"

"This is where my Merciful Sister comes into consideration. One of the laws of reality is that any force exerted on an object, is returned in equal but opposite measure by the object. The more massive it is, the harder it is to move. You push, it pushes back. Learn to understand this, it may prove useful. As you begin to understand, you will learn to overcome it. Brace yourself, and try again."

Gangrel cocked an eyebrow at her, and braced his feet steadily. He pictured the same two hands, and shoved the stone.

Grinding across the ground, it slid precisely one block length away from him.

"I did it!"

"Excellent. Now, touch the block. I want you to see how heavy it is, and know that you moved it."  
Gangrel looked at her, then walked up to the stone. He put both hands on the edge of it and pushed. It didn't budge. He crouched and put his shoulders into pushing the great lump of stone, but it wouldn't give even a hair's breadth.

"See how powerful you are?"

"Yes," Gangrel said obediently.

"Excellent." The stone disappeared, returning whence it came. "The ability to move, to push and pull is only the beginning. Your abilities as nigh infinite, limited only by your imagination and magical prowess. You should experiment, and learn. That is all I have to teach you."

"Thank you, Goddess," Gangrel said.

"It is my pleasure, Hero."

They stood for a moment in silent appreciation. The guay cawed and squawked, having descended upon the fire pit from breakfast. Karok picked at the remnants of broken potion bottle, scrounging for anything edible, or particularly shiny, among the wreckage. Clouds built behind the distant eastern hills, brilliant and white, and the wind brought with it the faintest scents of life.

The air changed. It felt heavier, and more magical.

"You call this little runt powerful?"

"I've seen more powerful corpses."

The two new voices came from the temple doorway.

"Oh, lovely, the witches" The Boar muttered, palming her face. "Hello Koume. Kotake."

Two Poes appeared in the doorway, one dressed in red and holding a glowing fiery lantern that shed embers dramatically-- the other dressed in blue, holding a lantern that dropped a heavy white mist which curled along the ground like vines.

"How's that for a hello," one cackled.

"Hello too, you Old Hog."

Gangrel stomped his foot on the ground, "that is no way to speak to a Goddess!"

"Oh fiery as ever," Koume cackled, "I told you he took more after me."

"Didn't you see how cool he remained during his lesson? He takes after me!"

"She's no Goddess; she's just an icon. An agent. A representative."

"As though the Goddess of Power would ever lower herself to speak to a mortal."

"She's still amazing and powerful. I don't deserve to speak directly to a Goddess, I'm not nearly pure enough to even think that," Gangrel said, glaring at the two poes.

"Humility," Kotake sneered, "he didn't get that from me."

"Well he didn't get it from me!"

"I didn't get anything from either of you!" Gangrel insisted.

"Don't speak to your mothers like that!"

"You're not my mother, my mother is dead!" Gangrel shouted. He hesitated, then pointed at them angrily, "and that's the only similarity! My mother was a good Gerudo woman, not a witch! Or two witches."

"Wait wait wait," Ghola said, "I know you two. You're the Twinrova: Koume of the Fire and Kotake of the Ice. You raised the previous King!"

"And we would have raised this one, if not for that blasted Link brat ruining everything."

"He killed your sorry butts," Ghola said.

"He killed you, as well," Koume snapped.

"Nu-uh, I'm fine. He only killed Her, not me."

Both witch-poes stared at her for a moment, before Kotake continued, "he slayed the Gerudo before we could collect you, leaving you instead to be raised by those pathetic, pious Poes in the valley. Ridiculous! Piety doesn't suit you, my Lord."

"Power suits you."

"I have power," Gangrel said, turning his back on them. "I will learn to use it, and I will be a King. I don't need your cruel words or insults in my life."

"What about our power?" Koume asked, tapping her fingers tantalizingly against her lantern. "Fire, to light your way."

"Ice, to keep your cool," Kotake added.

"Fire, to burn the bushes that obscure your way"

"Ice, to still the waters that block your path."

Ghola floated up next to him, "I don't like them... but I do like ice. And more power would be helpful if you run into danger."

"I reluctantly advise you to heed them. Power is your greatest ally," The Boar said.

"After me!" Ghola added. "I'm your first greatest ally. Right? Right."

"Right," Gangrel said, he turned back toward the witches. "All right. I don't like it, but I will accept your gift. What do I do?"

"Master using it, and you can have it," they said in unison.

"Oh-kay? What do you want me to do?"

"Master us, and you can have it."

"They want you to fight them," The Boar said. "Draw your swords. Perhaps what I have taught you will be of help. You have intelligence, use it."

A fireball hurtled toward him and he narrowly leapt out of the way, feeling the heat singeing the back of his leg. "Yikes!"

A moment later there was a crack like breaking pottery and clear, cold crystals crept along the ground where he'd been standing.

The witches cackled, floating and spinning. He looked back and forth between them, not sure who to watch or what to expect. Koume lifted her lantern and waved it. It began to glow, spewing dark smoke before another fireball erupted from it toward him.

He leapt aside and waved his hand toward her attack. "Go away, go away!" he yelped. The fireball ignored his requests and he leapt aside, the fireball wooshing past him.

Anything you can hold, echoed in his mind. That would make fire out of the question.

Both witches cackled gleefully.

Behind him, he heard a crackling hiss. He turned quickly and saw Kotake raising her lantern. Ice to still the waters-- if ice could stop water, it was definitely something closer to stone than to fire, and something he could hold. Probably. Worth a try, anyway. He braced himself and waited for the icy projectile. It shot ward him and he pushed it back at her. It collided with her in a burst of tiny white particles that immediately melted into drops of water under the desert sun.

The witches laughed uproariously.

"Refreshed, Sister?" Koume asked.

"Delighted, Sister!" Kotake responded.

"Hey dummy, you can't fight fire with fire! Or ice with ice, it's simple!" Ghola snapped.

"Well, I can't really aim these things," Gangrel called back.

"Then use your swords!"

"But-but I don't want to hurt anyone!"

Ghola zipped up into his face and held her hand out, "Hand!"

Gangrel blinked in confusion, then held his hand out. She set her lantern down in it, and swatted him on the nose. "They're already dead, Dummy!" she said, waving her hand through her own face. She took her lantern back and dashed away again.

Reluctantly, he reached for his swords, pulling them from their sheathes cleanly. He looked at Koume, then back at Kotake. They were circling him in a wide circle, one always opposite the other, moving just fast enough that an attack that missed him would not then hit the other. Koume began to charge another attack, and Gangrel really didn't want to run face first into a fireball, so he backed up, turning, keeping Koume in front of him. That meant Kotake was behind him. Just as the fireball was about to be released, he turned at slid both swords through the space Kotake should have occupied.

She had been there. She still was. Her response was laughter.

"Are you well, Sister?" Koume asked.

"Just a tickle, Sister," Kotake responded.

Out of ideas, Gangrel looked toward the Goddess, "Please, Goddess, what do I need to do?!"

The Boar said nothing, standing with her arms crossed and watching the duel go on.

"I said they're already dead!" Ghola yelled, gesturing at her lantern. "Dead! Their bodies have no weakness!"

"Silence, you!" Koume yelled, sending her charged fireball at Ghola. It passed through her harmlessly.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" Gangrel yelled, turning on Koume.

"No hints!" Kotake added, sending her own blast at Ghola. This one did not hit her petite ghostly form, but instead hit her tiny lantern, encasing it in a solid chunk of ice which fell to the stone. Ghola gave a squeaking gasp and fell, hitting the stone like a handful of wet cloth.

"GHOLA!" Gangrel screamed.

"Master us," Kotake teased,

"And save her." Koume finished.

Gangrel leapted at the closest sister, screaming incoherently and swinging his swords.

Searing, unbelievable pain hit his back and he screamed, his vocal chords aching. He fell to the ground, still clutching his swords. The air smelled vaguely of cooked meat, and tears welled in his eyes, blurring the world. It hurt so bad, like he was on fire. Maybe he was.

Then another blast, this time colder than the coldest night winds, and then the heat stopped, replaced by an entirely different burning ache, mixed with a sorrowful numbness.

Through the tears welling in his eyes, he could see Ghola laying on the stone, her lantern glowing faintly in its tomb of ice. He choked back the sob rising in his throat and pushed himself upright.

He had to save Ghola. The sisters circled him, laughing.

He swung a sword at Kotake, who twirled away from him. He jumped at Koume, who whirled back. Pain and stiffness gave him a serious disadvantage. Through the blur of tears he could see a glow, swirling orange and red, approaching him. Unable to roll or leap, he could only hope to minimize it, blocking the attack with his swords crossed.

He closed his eyes as a nearly blinding explosion of color and warmth hit his crossed blades; it stung at his flesh as it curled around the air, but didn't burn or sear or wound.

Opening his eyes, the fireball had been destroyed, but flickering flames remained on the blades. The warmth that radiated off them was reassuring, somehow.

From the corner of his blurry eyes, he could see the cold blue shimmer of Kotake's lantern.

You can't fight fire with fire, Ghola had said.

Both sisters were well beyond a swords length from him. They were faster and more nimble than him, in his injured state. His eyes were blurry with stubborn tears, leaving them as nothing more than color-coded drifting clouds.

"You're injured, Whelp."  
And they had more confidence.

"You've no hope."

But he had to save Ghola.

He turned as quickly as he could and threw the sword in his hand at Kotake, who yelped and twirled out of the way.

"Swords aren't for throwing, boy!" Kotake yelled.

"Who taught you that? It wasn't me!" Koume sneered.

"Please," Gangrel whispered.

"Please?" Both sisters teased.

"Please what?" Koume laughed.

"Stop? Nev-- AIEE!" Kotake was interrupted mid-taunt as the sword returned to Gangrel's hand, taking the shortest return route straight through Kotake's lantern. It shattered in a show of mist and ice crystals, which immediately began to melt. A glowing, glowering blue flame flickered over the lanterns remnants.

"Sister!" Koume screeched.

"Restore Ghola," Gangrel snarled. The sword that had slain Kotake shimmered with a sheen of icy crystals, as though it had been soaked and dipped into blue and white sand. His shoulders sagged and his chest heaved as he struggled to breath through the fatigue, panic and the pain. The loose sand strewn across the stone rippled around him, like a pond disturbed by a stone.

"So angry. That power... that's the little boy I remember," Kotake smirked.

"Restore Ghola... Or I... I will... I will kill you," he growled between strained breaths. He was not merely fighting Koume anymore, but something inside him, which rose like bile.

"Better warriors than you have tried," she laughed, continuing to circle him. He followed her with his eyes. She faded from sight, though her lantern remained visible, and zipped from one side of the make-shift arena to the other. "Yet here I am. I'm wise to your tricks now-- a sneak attack only works once! Just try it and I'll burn that one too.

Attack me with fire and watch me burn brighter, Boy!"

One blade still burned with flickers of flame. He dropped it, knowing it would return with or without his consent and trusting the magic of the sword to not burn him when it did. He held the icy blade in both hands and watched her.

"You, as you are, have no chance, Boy. Feel that power? That anger? That is your only hope."

"I don't... need your hope," he said through gritted teeth. He shifted the sword to his left hand and held his right hand toward her, "I only need... to say... please."  
The lantern, glowing red hot and dropping its embers, was ripped from Koume's clutches and flew to Gangrel's outstretched hand.

Gangrel stumbled under the immense weight of glass and iron and soul, but he didn't have to manage for long. Koume screamed and lunged toward him, but wasn't quick enough to stop him from sliding the ice glazed blade into the fire furnace of the lantern. It crumbled like ashes, spilling sparks across the stone.  
He dropped the other sword, again putting his trust in its magic. Then, he collapsed. Turning his head, he tried to find Ghola.

"Ghola?" He begged.

"Gangrel!" Ghola squealed, zipping to his side.

"Ghola, you're okay," he said softly.

"It was just ice, Gangrel. I can't be put out that easily, I'm a desert girl!" She said, pressing her head against his crown. Fragments of ice were still dripping off the bottom of her lantern. "But you're injured! A lot!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled, clutching his stomach.

"You're lucky you can't see this, it's really gross," Ghola added, "like, weepy blisters and pus-- If I could throw up, I'd be sick all over you right now, and that wouldn't help at all!"

"I think that's quite enough, Poe child," the Boar said, waving Ghola back. She placed her hands on Gangrel's back. A keening whine escaped his clenched teeth as she touched him, but slowly the pain ebbed.

"Why?" he whimpered.

"You've been burned, and frost bitten."

"Why did you let them do that?" he asked. "You're supposed to protect."

"Oh, Child," she crooned, "I would not have let them kill you, but this will not be the last pain you feel. You will have to learn to protect yourself as fiercely as you protect others."

"It's a good thing Maman gave you that scarf, it looks like it helped a bit. It's not burnt at all!"

"It was created with care, and love. Love is a very powerful force," The Boar said. She brushed and rubbed his back, wincing sympathetically each time he cringed.

It was some time before she finally lifted her hands from the soft, healed skin of Gangrel's back. "You are well, and the memories will fade. Learn from them."

He continued to lay on the stones, "I'm tired. And my stomach still hurts."

"You have had a busy day, yet again. You should rest, but we should get out of the sun for now."

"You're too soft on him," a voice said.

Gangrel pushed himself upright warily, "No, I defeated you!"

"You mastered us, Boy," the voice said. The blue flame from Kotake's lantern joined with a similar red smoke flicker from Koume's. The two essences twisted together and formed a single woman, wearing a large jeweled crown, with hair of both fire red and ice blue.

"Ah, Twinrova. I must say I prefer your company to that of the twins," The Boar said.

The translucent shade of a woman giggled, walking toward Gangrel on legs that faded to invisible, intangible feet.

"So, Boy. You have mastered me. Will you accept my... gifts?" she asked, leaning toward him. Her top did not cover nearly enough of her considerable self.

Gangrel scooted back, trying to get away from her overwhelming presence, to little avail.

"Y-yes?" he said, uncertainty tingeing his voice.

Her hands lashed out like snakes and grasped both his wrists and pulled him toward her, forcing him uncomfortable close as she planted a kiss on the top of his head.

"Fire and Ice. Tame them like you tamed me," she purred.

"Please let me go," he begged.

She laughed and dissipated. Where her hands had gripped his wrists there were two golden bangles, one etched with blue, the other in red. He held his arms up and looked at the tight, sturdy bands.

"They're pretty," he said, tugging at one, "but stubborn. I don't think it'll come off."

"Are they magic? I bet they're magic-- do magic, Ganny! Do magic!"

"Right now? But really I'm tired."

"Please?"

"You know I can't say no to you," he groaned. "Okay, okay." He held his right hand up, and the bracelet marked with red. He squinted at his hand and tried to think magical thoughts. A flame popped up in his hand, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. "Whoa, neat!"

"Now ice, now ice!"

He thought of ice.

Another fireball popped up and this time maintained long enough for him to admire it. He shook his hand and it extinguished.

"Hmm."

"No no, the other one!" Ghola said.

"I know, I heard you ask for ice."

"No, the other hand! It's blue!"

"Huh?" Gangrel murmured, and sleepily held up his left hand. A thin layer of ice coated his palm, immediately melting away to dampness. "Oh, wow."

He tried again, focusing more. An orb of icy slush manifested, growing until he willed it now to. It fell to his hand, collapsing into sleety mush and melted almost instantly.

He poked at the bracelets with his opposite hands, tugging at them; they stuck tight. "I wish I could switch it or something, I'm better with my right hand."

He clanged the bracelets together tired frustration. The colors switched. He clanged them again, and both turned red. Again, and both became blue.

"Double ice!" Ghola squealed. "We are gonna have so much cold water, it's going to be awesome. Let's go in the temple and cover the main hall in ice!"

"Why?" Gangrel asked, walking toward the temple entrance.

"Because you can."


	5. Desert Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rest, practice and dinner. Tomorrow will be another busy day.

It turned out that covering the temple foyer in ice was too large a task for one battle fatigued little boy with an under-developed magical ability. He could only create two large ice blasts, or a handful of smaller ones, before he needed to take a break to recuperate and bring his stamina back up. In the time it took to recoup his magical losses, the hot, dry desert air had more than half melted the meager crystals. Between Ghola's demands for ice, and Gangrel's abilities, they had come to a compromise.

"Enough nap, more ice!" Ghola said, shaking Gangrel's shoulder to wake him.

"Hrrm, whas?" Gangrel enunciated eloquently, opening a sleepy eye. He waved his hand in the air, building a tiny ball of ice flakes-- snow, he'd be informed-- and held it there as it dropped its cargo upon him and Ghola.

"Yay!" Ghola said, spinning under the personal snowstorm. "We've learned so much! Maman will be pleased!" Ghola said.

"You think so?" Gangrel asked, closing his eyes again.

"Oh yeah, she told you to get the Goddesses blessings, and you've not only gotten a blessing, but also magic powers!"

"I've also bothered the Goddess more than I had any right too," Gangrel said, nestling into his arms.

_You're no bother, Boy_ The Boar said. She had returned to her Boar form, but smaller. She was still enormous, but she fit within the temple walls this time. She lounged on the floor, dozing.

"I didn't know the Goddesses slept," Gangrel admitted.

_One of the joys of taking on a physical form_, she said, opening one eye to look at him curled up upon the stairs. _The Great Goddess is infinite, but I am not. Like you, I have also had a busy day._

"I'm sorry I have inconvenienced you," Gangrel said, yawning.

_So full of apologies, Boy. It is a good tired. The fatigue of a job well done_, she mused. _This temple has not had so much life in it in many years. The priestesses and worshippers of the Great Goddess were always so busy. Farmers, Herders, Growers, Sellers, Architects and Artisans. So many people, so much to do._

"Hmm," Gangrel mused. The Boar was being chatty again, so naptime was presumably over. He rolled over and folded his arms behind his head, staring at the brown, dusty ceiling. "Ghola, how big was our village?"

Ghola kicked at the damp stone in thought. "Not huge. Twenty? Thirty? It was mostly one big extended family: Your Mother, Sisters, Aunts, Cousins. The Gerudo are a nomadic people. The priestesses lived at the temples and holy sites, the soldiers lived in the barracks, and the rest went where they were needed, gathering only for events: markets, holy days, celebrations. Your birth was a huge event and everyone came from all corners of the desert for your first birthday. Word travels quickly, but the desert is pretty vast. There musta been over two hundred different Gerudo in and out of the camp around then."

"Two hundred. Is that really all we are?"

_The Gerudo have never been a majority in the region_, The Boar interrupted. _But the culture is present all over; even deep in the heart of Hyrule, the Gerudo influence shows. In centuries past they numbered in the tens of thousands, but wanderers do what they will, and they have spread themselves thin across the world._

"How many Gerudo are left?"

_I can not say. Perhaps one of my Sisters knows, it is not my domain. I know their influence has spread wide, but not who has spread it or where they are now._

"What do I do," Gangrel asked, taking a deep breath, "if there are no more Gerudo? I'm supposed to protect, and guide, and rule my people. What if I have no people?"

_There, my Piglet, is where you have a choice_, The Boar said, rolling her huge form onto her thick, gnarled hooves and standing. _You will be a King of your people. It is in your blood, in your soul, to rule. Who you take as your people, that is your choice._

"My choice," he repeated softly.

_But, take care-- for it is also their choice. If you try to rule the unwilling, you will end up the same as the previous King._

"I remember," he said.

The Boar's form pulsed and reared on its hind legs. The world blurred for just a moment and the humanoid form returned.

"Once again, hands prove to be a necessity. I am going to gather us dinner-- eating is another great benefit to taking a physical form. While I am busy, I request that you practice what you learned today. When I return, we shall eat, and sleep, for the wastelands should not be travelled in the dark of night."

"You've already given me a large meal today, I don't need anything so elaborate this time," Gangrel said.

The Boar laughed, "you will eat what I put before you, and you will be happy for the honor to do so. That is not an order, that is simply the way you are. I am an Agent of the Goddess, I do not do anything I do not wish to do."

"You didn't seem to wish to spend time with Koume and Kotake, but you did that," Gangrel mused.

The Boar stopped in the doorway and snorted, and Gangrel immediately regretted his words. "I'm sorry, if I spoke out of place. You did it for me, I understand, unpleasant as it was, and I appreciate that greatly."

"Again, you apologize. No, I do not enjoy the company of the twin witches, but they acquired great power during their long lives, and I must respect that. They were, also, the surrogate mothers to the previous King, and I tolerate them in his honor." She looked over her shoulder at him, "you may be appreciative of my gifts, but your apologies try upon my patience. Desert Hospitality says you are my guest. Your appreciation is welcome, your regret is insulting. One more apology, and I will be quite cross."

"Yes Goddess," he said quickly, "I apol-- I appreciate the warning. Thank you. This has meant so very much to me."

The Boar nodded and continued outside.

After a moment, her voice called back. "Practice!" With a boom that brought dust from the walls, a large stone appeared and dropped into the center of the foyer, right between the remaining armos and where the previous one had stood the night before.

"You heard the lady," Ghola said. "Let's see if you can move it without talking this time."

"Let's see if you can do anything without talking," Gangrel teased.

"Doubtful!" Ghola said, "I mean, having to ask politely is really lame. And getting mad at it is really silly."

"I guess you're right," he admitted. "Okay, so, no talking."

Gangrel spent the next fifteen minutes trying to push and pull the stone around the floor, much to the displeasure of the thick, ancient rug, which ended up worn ragged in several place the stone had scraped across it.

"You're getting good at this," Ghola said.

"I'm getting exhausted by this," Gangrel added, plopping down on the floor. "Time for a break."

"Are you still being all appreciative and or angry at the block to move it?" Ghola asked, hands akimbo.

"A little," Gangrel said. "It helps. It's much easier. I'm being silent, so it doesn't matter, right?"

"It didn't matter to begin with, it was just silly. But, it was okay, I mean, you're pretty silly Ganny."

"Ganny," he repeated, stucking his tongue out at her.

"Ganny ganny Gangrel, silly silly prince," Ghola chanted. "something something something, nothing rhymes with prince."

"Now you're a poet?" he replied.

"I am many things, and all of them are great. Hey, think you could lift this thing?" She asked, patting the stone.

"Lift it? Worth a try," he said, rolling forward and somersaulting to his feet.

"Hey, you stuck the landing that time! Yay!"

"Ah, forward is easy," he said, waving dismissively. "Okay, let's try this."

Thinking thoughts of lifting, he watched the block. He tried to imagine hands lifting it, but it only slid back and forth a little. He tried to imagine a hand coming out of the ground, to push it up, but all he managed to do was flip it onto a different side.

"This is tricky. It's really heavy, and straight-up lifting is really different from sliding."

"Well... slide it up!"

"There's nothing to slide it on."

"It's magic, there doesn't need to be something. Slide up!"

"I'll try," he said, hesitating. He gestured at the stone with his palm open. He pointed at the stone. He waved, beckoned and made rude gestures at the stone, all to no avail. He could feel the magic in his veins, but it wasn't doing what he wanted it to do.

Closing his eyes, he thought at the stone. He thought about flight, he thought about lifting, he thought about jumping. Nothing was happening. He thoughts turned less concrete, and he pondered other ways to move the stone.

"You're doing it!" Ghola said.

Gangrel opened his eyes to see his successes.

The stone was levitating, mere inches off the floor, but off the floor nonetheless. He stood in amazement for a second before the stone crashed back to the floor.

"Good job!" Ghola called, landing on the stone and patted it. "Good job to you too."

Gangrel fell backwards onto the floor and fought for breath.

"Good? It wasn't even a foot! That was weak!" he panted, "and exhausting! I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"No, I think you are definitely cut out for this," The Boar said. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and face smirking. "How did you do that?"

"I just thought about it until something worked."

"I believe you there, but what did you think?"

"I-it's silly," Gangrel said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the floor.

"It worked, didn't it? Humor me."

Scuffing his feet on the worn carpet, he dropped his arm again. "Well, I can move the thing across the ground just fine, right? But that's not the way I wanted to move it, so I imagined, well, if the world were tilted on it's side, then I could move it along the floor and that would be up, sorta, comparatively, right?"

The Boar's full eyebrows raised and she nodded, clearly impressed.

"Boy, do you know what you were doing?"

"..L-lifting... a stone... badly?"

"You were trying to re-order the rules of reality, just to move a stone," she laughed.

"Wow, go you," Ghola giggled.

"The rules... of reality? Did I mess up? I'm so sor--- ee, I mean... I don't--"

"It's all right, you've done nothing wrong. I would have expected it to be impossible for you to adapt to your new skills so quickly... But quick learner as you may be, it will still take centuries for you to be able to alter reality to a degree that she couldn't immediately repair herself." The Boar gestured him to her, "come, it is time for dinner."

Gangrel hurried to her side. "So, it wasn't a silly thing to do?"

"Silly, what a word that is. It could be, it could not. Do you think it was 'silly'?"

"Well, I can't just change the way the world works to make it easier for me," he said, shrugging.

"Can't you? Because it sounds like you almost did," The Boar said, handing him a half of a desert squash.

"Can I?" Gangrel asked. "Should I? I don't think I should have that much power."

"Who deserves the power more than you?" Ghola asked. "If you don't wield it, someone worse could get it-- like the Warrior."

"Power exists to be used," The Boar said.

"With all due respect, you are the Goddess of Power, you can say and believe that because no one could ever use power against you. I have seen power used against people and it is horrifying. Power should be used, when it is needed, but then how do you decide when it's necessary, and when it's unnecessary? Just because I can, doesn't mean I should," Gangrel looked at his hands for a moment. "I can't think on an empty stomach."

"Then sit, and eat," The Boar said, gesturing to several large plates of food spread before him. A platter of desert squash and sweet potatoes, sliced and steaming. The largest melon he'd ever seen, also split in two and glistening with sweetness in the light of the setting sun. A bowl full of tiny blackened balls of something, white poking between the cracks in the black. A pitcher of desert glass, full of water and honeysuckle blossoms, sweating cold droplets onto the stone.

"I don't think I've ever been so hungry, and this looks even better than breakfast!" Gangrel said.

"Magic takes a lot out of you. You have done well, you earned this."

"Thank you! This looks amazing, I've never seen squash that color, and that melon is huge, and so many sweet potatoes, and... uh, what are those?"

"Skulltulas!" Ghola squealed, diving toward the bowl of blackened spider carcasses. She shoved several into the shadowy innards of her cowl, hiding them in whatever mysterious place poes stored things, before she realized what she was doing. "Sorry, got carried away. They're really, really good... I bet. Try one!"

She offered the spider to Gangrel, who took it from her and looked at it uncertainly, bringing it toward his mouth. "Um... how? Do I just... bite it?"

"No, start with the legs. Crack a leg off, and then snap it in half!"  
Sitting, he pulled a leg off of the spider and set the rest on the ground. Holding the leg carefully, he snapped it in half again, revealing a strand of white, stringy something.

"Eat it! Eat-it-eat-it-eat-it." Ghola said. "Eeeeeeeeeat it."

"Calm down, your scaring my appetite away, and I still need to eat all of these sweet potatoes," Gangrel said. He looked at the string of meat and sniffed it. It had a very mild, sweet smell. Still uncertain, he licked it. Strange, but not bad. It made a better first impression than cheese had. He closed his eyes and bit, tugging it out of the remains of the limb.

"Well? Isn't it the best thing you've ever eaten?!"

"No, no it is not," he said, chewing. "But it's not bad. I could get used to it, but I'd rather have those." He reached for the platter of sweet potatoes.

"No, no, you're objectively wrong," Ghola said, shoving another spider into her cowl. "Man, I wish I could eat these. Thank you, Great Goddess, for cooking them even if Gangrel's got no good taste at all."

"You are welcome. I hope the memories bring you peace and happiness," The Boar said. She glanced back to Gangrel, who was stuffing his face with sweet potatoes. "I do hope Gangrel will at least finish his skulltula, it's meat will help him grow, and its ferocity will help him strive."

"Hm?" He asked, looking at her.

"You are what you eat," Ghola said, "be a skulltula!"

Gangrel laughed, nearly choking on his dinner. Once the coughing had passed, he resumed his rabid eating.

"Quite the appetite he has; far more than this morning."

"Yeah, he's like that sometimes, but as soon as he's done he's gonna pass out," Ghola said, feigning a fainting spell and drifting to the stone before popping back up. "He does this like, once a week. Usually after hanging out with Falon. She'll sneak him a day or twos worth of food and he'll take it back home, eat it ALL and then it's all zzz's until sun up."

"One time," he said, stopping and swallowing before continued, "I didn't. The first time, I tried to make it last, and it went all rotten. I felt awful! It was so wasteful."

"And then he ate it anyway, and felt even worse."

"I don't want to remember that," Gangrel shuddered.

"Hey, neither do I-- not your greatest moment."

"Well, I assure you none of this will go to waste," The Boar said. "Your guay allies are eagerly awaiting your retreat. And one is not waiting at all."

King landed near Gangrel and looked at him, tilting his head left and right.

"Mine," King said.

"Sure, all yours," Gangrel said, giving the guay a chunk of squash.

King took it and flew back to his flock, dropped it off, and flew back.

"Mine," King said.

Gangrel laughed.

King laughed too, hopping eagerly until Gangrel gave him another morsel.

Several more trips from meal-side to flock occurred over the course of dinner. Though bright, the bird was not sure what to make of the skulltula Ghola offered him, flapping his wings apprehensively and attacking the crispy arachnid, squawking angrily. Once he'd broken the shell open and found it was full of food, he'd calmed down, feasted and then disappeared, returning after a few minutes with a date, which he set at Ghola's feet.

The Boar had split the melon into quarters, taking only one piece for herself, amazed at Gangrel's ability to eat what seemed to be twice his own meager weight in food. Ghola continued to pocket skulltulas until there were none left, save for the one Gangrel had only half eaten, which he was eventually goaded to finish.

There were more laughs, and much eating and drinking of sweet, nectar tinged water. By the time the sun had set, Gangrel was sprawled out on temple's stoop, sleeping the deep, stony sleep of an exercised, fed and water child. The Boar had to carry him inside the protection of the Great Temples walls, as the frigid winds of night began to blow across the sands.

She returned to her smaller boar form and nestled down beside him, keeping herself between him and the doorway. Ghola set her lantern down a few inches from the pair. With the Boar blocking the doorway, the lantern and its candle-like flame were the only light source in he foyer. Ghola floated just above her lantern, and closed her eyes and waited for morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far. I can update more frequently if anyone desires, but at the moment I'm just posting when I feel like it since no one has said anything. Cheers :)


	6. I Make Mistakes Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the Desert Colossus, our Heroes make their way to the Domain of the Merciful Goddess, the Desert Oasis. Who knew there was so much water in the whole world?

The sun peeked over the horizon, spreading golden warmth across the sands. Light crept into the temple and pried at Gangrel's closed eyes, which flitted open.

The Boar was gone. Gangrel sat up and looked around, his crown sliding off and dangling from a lock of hair.

"Ow," he muttered, reaching up to straighten it.

From her spot beside him, Ghola opened her eyes, "Finally! Another hour or two and I woulda been really, really bored. You sleep too long."

"Sorry, I was really out," he said, still struggling with his crown, "can you help me? It's stuck, and I don't wanna break it again."

"Silly Gangrel," she said, floating up and pulling at the tangle of hair and chain. "Man, you tangled this good. Your hair is filthy. I hope the Desert Oasis isn't too far, so you can wash your hair. And your rest of you. Ah-ha, got it!" 

"I guess I could use a wash," he admitted, brushing the sand off his arms as Ghola draped the crown over his head.

“Seriously, you’re covered in sand, dust and grime. There’s a waterskin and melon waiting by the door from the Great Boar.”

Indeed there was, sitting on a tray of desert glass. Beside it, hovering over the floor and bobbing softly was a large, twinkling heart. 

He broke the melon open and took a messy bite out of it. ”So, what's this thing? Is looks like the heart we got from the exploding statue, but… more so. It feels powerful. Important.”

"Oh, it's way more important, more valuable and much much rarer. It's a heart container!"

"So I can... carry hearts?"

"Sort of! It'll make you stronger over all, sort of a magical stamina boost, only permanent. It'll make you a little stronger, a little more durable, etc. Usually you only find 'em after you defeat a really big, really powerful creature, but I guess this was a pretty important event for you, so the Goddess found one for you.”

"That was really nice of her," Gangrel said sincerely. He reached out to the heart container up and it disappeared in a tiny puff of sparkles, which glowed on his skin for a few seconds before fading away. He was no longer hungry, or even drowsy from waking up, and he did feel a bit stronger. “Neat! Thank you Great Boar!”

"Sometimes you find smaller, partial ones hidden in hard to reach nooks and crannies. I'm not sure if they get left there by the nature spirits, or squirreled away by mischievous keatons, but they're there," Ghola said, shrugging. "What about the rest of your breakfast?"

“I guess I don't need it. The good parts I'm going to give to King and his flock, and the rest is a diversion. I'll throw it to the leevers, and run as fast as I can."

"Why not do the spinny no-leever rope dance?"

"Because I'm not sure how to do it without making myself dizzy, and the temple is a much bigger target than a few rocks spread out in the sand. If I get too dizzy, I'll fall and get attacked. I can try to freeze them, or push them away, but that's a last resort, and I don't know how effective it'll be."

"Oh." Ghola bobbed up and down as Gangrel sliced the melon into six pieces. "Good idea," she added, after a moment.

He nodded, and clumsily cut the rough rind off the melon.

The desert sand clean and bright, giving no hints that hungry creatures dwelt beneath the wind-shifted surface. Several guay were up upon the stone arch, looking down. King swooped down as they exited the temple and landed at Gangrel's feet.

"Mine," King said.

"Good morning!" Gangrel responded. "I have a gift for you!"

He dropped the soft and juicy melon flesh to the stone at his feet, where it splattered on the stones. The Guay descended, startling even King, who fluttered several feet into the air as his flock feasted.

"Thank you," Gangrel said, crouching and holding a piece of melon out to King, "It was nice to meet you. I hope you live a long, healthy life."

King took the melon and downed in it a gulp.

"Thank you," King croaked.

Gangrel was stunned for a moment.

"He's just repeating what you said," Ghola said.

"No," Gangrel said, smiling, "I don't think he is. Not entirely."

"Whatever you wanna believe," Ghola conceded, her glowing eyes rolling. When she looked back, Gangrel was crouched down, talking to King.

"These are a distraction for the leevers," He said, holding the melon rind out to show King. "It's not very good, I gave you guys the good part, so don't be jealous, okay? And don't go after these, because you know the leevers are dangerous. Okay?"

King pecked at small bite of melon off the rind, then scratched at the ground. If he understood he gave no indication.

Gangrel slowly broke the melon rind into four or five decent sized pieces, then took a deep breath and nodded, "All righty Ghola, let's go."

He took a chunk of rind in hand and threw it as far as he could, waiting for it to hit the sand before taking off in a sprint across hot, golden expanse. It wasn't long before he could hear the snarling roar of the leevers coming after him. He tossed another chunk of rind. It didn't slow them down very long. He tossed another chunk, then another.

They were gaining on him. The sand was too loose, too hard to run on. The rind, soft and yielding, slowed the leevers no time at all.

"I don't think we're gonna make it!" Gangrel yelled, dropping the last two bits of fruit.

"Yes you are," Ghola said, "just keep running, do not look back okay? Don't waste breath answering either, I got your back."

Gangrel nodded, still running.

"Skulltula, away!" Ghola yelled, cracking a spider apart and dribbling it across the sands. The leevers slowed, sifting all of the skulltula bits out of the sand.

"Oh man, good news, they like those way better than your lame melon rinds," Ghola spread her cowl aside and rained crumbled roast skulltulas down upon the sand. "You better enjoy these, you mean ole jerks!" 

They were only half way to the exit of the Desert Colossus and entirely out of anything that would work as leever bait. The leevers had slowed their approach, but not by enough.

"I think you have to get out your swords," Ghola said. 

"I don't want to-- to hurt them!" He said.

"Well, they wanna hurt you!"

"I wish the Goddess had stuck around."

"This is probably another one of her tests," Ghola admitted. "Company's here!"

One of the leevers was right upon Gangrel's heels. His swords were in his hands, but as he turned around he could see the leever's eye. It was small and dark, strange and round and surrounded by protective hairs, but it was still an eye. They had eyes, they have mouths, they had hairs, they lived, they strived.

"I can't kill it," he said, dropping his swords. "But it won't kill me," he said, sticking his feet in the sand and pushing the leever away. 

Sand, he learned at that moment, is not a good surface to brace one's self upon, and though the leever did slow, Gangrel himself went tumbling head over foot. The leever was stunned for only a moment, quickly resuming its approach. Gangrel kicked out, catching one of its horns with his boot and managing to hold it at bay. It couldn't reach him, but he couldn't get up. Two more leevers were approaching. He tried to raise his hands to cast a spell at them, but he couldn't concentrate.

Ghola smacked the leever with her lantern, but it didn't even notice her.

Then, the sky filled with tiny shadows. And the angry caw of guays.

The guays descended, diving at the eyes of the leevers, pulling at their hairs and pecking their delicate eyelids; the leevers stopped their assault on Gangrel, shifting their attention to the guay.

King landed on Gangrel's chest, the earring around his ankle shining in the sun, and squawked at him, before returning to the air. The leever at Gangrel's feet shuddered and lunged at a guay, knocking it to the sand. King dove at the leever, pulling one of the scavengers tiny eyes out in defense of his flock mate.

Scrambling for purchase in the sand, Gangrel got to his feet.

"King!" he called, watching the birds. If he tried to attack, to protect them, he'd only hurt them too.

Ghola grabbed his hand and yanked him onward, "Do not stop now! The sooner we get away, the sooner they'll be safe! Go!"

Stumbling in hesitation he quickly sorted his feet out and continued off toward the Haunted Wasteland.

\----

The trip through the Haunted Wasteland was uneventful-- Gangrel followed Ghola, who claimed she was following another poe that Gangrel never saw. It was an hour of running through the constant, blinding, disorienting sandstorm before they reached a cliffside.

"This is the entrance to the Desert Oasis!" Ghola said happily. "Somewhere around here, at least."

Gangrel took a deep swig of the water skin the Goddess had left for him. It was warm, but clean and clear, and he felt refreshed, but something was still troubling him.

"Do you think King's flock is okay?" he asked.

"You have the power to cool that now, you know," Ghola said, adding, "yeah, I'm sure they're fine."

Gangrel looked at his bracelets to check which one was blue and held the bottle in that hand. "Why do people keep putting themselves in harms way for me?" Frost covered the water skin. 

"When the twin witches attacked me, what did you do?" Ghola asked.

"I-I panicked. They attacked me." Gangrel swished the water skin, listening to the water slush around.

"And then?"

"I got angry. And scared."

"And you fought them, even though you didn't want to."

"They hurt you! The only way to help you was to stop them! I didn't want anything to happen to you..."

Ghola nodded, "That's why they do it, too." 

Gangrel stared at his feet for a moment, watching the dust and pebbles dance around his feet. "But, you shouldn't. I... I'm not worth it. Not like you, you're worth everything. I just a prince, with no land or people. You're wise, and nice, and funny."

"And you're my friend. You're important to me. Importance is subjective. It differs from person to person. You want to protect every single living thing. You may need to cut back your expectations. I only want to protect you, and I'm gonna do my best."

"Thank you," Gangrel said. He took a swig of the frosty water, and immediately dribbled it down his chest. "Ith cold!"

"Well, yeah, you froze it," Ghola said, "isn't it great?"

"No, it hurts," he said. "It's like trying to drink the night winds."

"Psh, wuss. Ice is great, you should try ice chips on a hot day, it's stunning."

"I'll take your word for it. Where's the oasis entrance? Do we need to do a special prayer?"

"I suggest using our eyes first," Ghola replied, turning to the cliffside. She looked it up and down, and tapped her hands on the worn sandstone. The winds had carved into the soft stone, making all sorts of natural pillars and smooth swirling lines. 

"Maybe, just maybe, we should us that door," she said, gesturing a little ways away. 

Gangrel looked. There were pillars carved into the mountain side, between which there were recessed arches. He walked toward them, but between the pillars was nothing but solid sandstone wall.

"Well, it looks like an entrance might be around here, but I don't see anything. Do we need to pray now?"

"You and prayer," Ghola scoffed, then pointed at the wall, "it's right there."

"What? I don't see anything."

"Exactly, there's nothing, instead of something! Come on!" she said, easily passing through the stone.

"Ghola!" Gangrel called.

"Are you coming or not?" she called back.

"I'm not a Poe! I can't just pass through solid stone!"

She appeared halfway through the wall and looked at him blankly. "Come. Here."

"But--"

"Gangrel."

He walked toward her, stopping a foot or so from the wall.

"Hold out your hand," she said, "and move forward. Trust me."

He hesitated, but he couldn't disbelieve her. He held his hand up and moved slowly toward the wall. And passed through it without any difficulty.

"It's not real? A mirage?" Gangrel asked, turning around. From beyond the illusion, he could see through it, a normal arched doorway. The hall was lined with marble columns, the floor, thought somewhat sandy, was decorated with the three crescents of the Symbol of the Merciful Goddess, set into the floor with chips of blue stone. There were places for lanterns along the walls, small sections cut into the cliffside itself, but no light came from them. The hallway stretched outward, succumbing to darkness shortly.

"The Merciful Goddess is a magician-- a master of illusion and mimicry. There may be more illusions, so just follow me-- I see right through 'em."

"Lead the way, then," Gangrel said.

"All right then, I will," Ghola said proudly, holding her lantern in front of her and floating onward.

The hallway came to a sudden end about twenty or thirty feet down the path. 

"We can go left, or right here," Ghola said, "both these walls are illusions, the paths look identical. Being an entrance hall, I imagine they both lead to the same place."

"Right, then?" Gangrel suggested. 

They continued. There was a distant roar in the air, which smelled damp and fresh. Beyond the illusory wall the hallway curved and light shone from small round windows, casting trios of circles on the path that almost matched up with the holy symbols on the floor. 

"I bet at the right time of year those match up just right. Probably near the Day of Mercy, the Merciful Goddess's holy day. It comes before the rainy season, when she allows the summer drought to end," Ghola said happily. "There's a dance, and these ribbons, and these cakes! Oh, so fun."

"Is that, um, a priestess thing?" Gangrel asked.

"Oh no, everyone celebrates the holy days. There's also the Day of Plenty, for the Great Goddess, which comes at the end of the harvest season where we have a big feast and prepare the extra goods for trade. The Fierce Goddess's holy day is the Day of Peace, it comes just before summer officially begins, to prepare for the coming harsh months. It's a day of fun and relaxation and games, to give people good memories to hold them through the harsh heat of summer."

"Why haven't I heard of them before?" Gangrel asked.

"It's a shame, but Maman says celebration is for the living," Ghola said, wilting. "She recognizes that the Holy Days exist, but has always wanted you to be treated as an honorary Poe, because she didn't think you'd live this long."

"What? Why?" Gangrel asked, against looking down at himself. "I've never got too sick, or got badly hurt, I mean, I hurt my ankle that one time, but that wasn't very bad..."

"Because a graveyard is not a nursery. It's not a creche, nor a place for growth or hope. If you had gotten ill, we couldn't cure you. If you had gotten injured, we couldn't heal you," Ghola set her hand a top his head. "You were so tiny, Ganny, you could barely walk, you could only say a few words and you always looked so lost and confused. Poes are not good parents. They're flighty and self-centered, because simply being a poe means some concern has kept you tied to the world, and that's all you ever care about."

"Well, I'm still alive. Thanks to you," He said.

"Yep! After this whole little adventure, we'll have some celebration days. I promise."

Gangrel grinned, "I look forward it them."

"Oh man, look at this!" Ghola gasped, peering out one of the circular windows. 

"What is -- o-oh."

The source of the roar made itself known. Outside the windows there was a great, wide pool of water, glistening in the open, under the sunlight, shivering and sparkling under the assault of a tall, wide waterfall.

Gangrel pressed his face up to the lowest circular opening on the wall and watched the water cascade. "It's beautiful," he whispered. Moisture from the mist began to gather on his face, beading on his eyelashes. He brushed it away and looked at the moisture on his hand in awe. "It's real."

"Of course it is, it's just a waterfall," Ghola said. "It's not as impressive as the Gerudo Valley River, but it's really pretty here, way more peaceful."

"Not as-- not as impressive? It's amazing! Water, clean, clear water is pouring down the mountainside-- it's not even raining, it's just... it keeps coming! How is there this much water in the whole world?!"

Ghola peered out the window as well. "Man, I have got to take you to see the ocean some day. She never got to see it, but I've heard of it and it would blow your mind." 

She looked back to Gangrel, but he was gone, boots slapping on the damp tiles as she ran toward the end of the hall.

Gangrel knelt in front of the pool of water, his hands extended, but afraid to touch it. It was so clear, and the pond sank so deep in spots he couldn't see the bottom. Tiny fish swam around in it, as well as other strange creatures. 

From the plants growing beside the pond something tiny leapt into the water and swam away, it's form roughly diamond shaped, but with long long legs pushing it through the water.

"Oh!" Gangrel whispered. 

It swam several feet and then climbed out onto a rock, folding it's long hind legs up neatly under itself. Then, the rock extending a head and sprouted four wide, clawed legs and began to swim away.

"A tortoise! They can swim?"

"That is a turtle," Ghola said, landing on Gangrel's head. "They're like tortoises, but not the same. I don't think tortoises can swim, though. The thing on its back is a frog."

A blur zipped past both of them and over the water, stopping only momentarily to hover in place before zipping away again.

"That is a dragonfly," Ghola said.

"There's so much I don't know," Gangrel said. "How are you so smart, Ghola?"

"She was tutored," Ghola said happily. "She heard stories, saw pictures, read books, and I got all that information when she died."

"What are red books?" Gangrel asked.

"Books, that were read. Read, you know, reading."

"Reeding? Like, weaving reeds?"

"What, no, you're so dumb. I guess we were always too busy teaching you to stay alive, we never bothered to teach you any education! Not many books in the graveyard anyway... so, epitaphs on graves, you know those right?"

"The markings? Yeah, of course I know those," Gangrel nodded, "The symbol of the Gerudo, and the Goddess' symbols."

"No, below that there's usually words. The person's name, the date of their birth and death, maybe some words about 'em," Ghola said. 

Gangrel looked at her blankly. She settled onto the ground and dipped her hand into his lantern, "Like this, say, a memorial for you would have the Gerudo symbol, and then your name and your birthdate."

Gangrel she wrote. Born mid-springish? Died: not on my watch, suckers.

"Those marks mean something?" Gangrel said, "I thought they were just decoration."

"Okay, after all this, but before we get to celebrations, I'm teaching you to read."

"Really? It's not just a priestess thing?"

"No, all Gerudo should know how to read, it's important, what if you need to write a letter, or look something up in a book, or sign a declaration?" Ghola explained. "If you'd grown up in normal Gerudo society you would have been taught to read from the age of 4 or 5, so you're a bit behind, but it's never too late!"

Gangrel looked at the words Ghola had written, glowing softly on the damp stone. He ran his fingers over the first part. "This is my name?" he asked.

"Well, sort of. It says Gangrel, and that's the best name you've got, although being a prince, I should have written it this way." Dipping her hand back into her lantern, she wrote:

Son of Dragmire, King of the Gerudo.

She looked at the words and just in front of 'Son of Dragmire' she wrote a blank line. Then she slapped it, and smeared her hands all over it. "ARGH!" she screamed.

Her scream echoed and around the pond creatures scrambled out of their hiding places and dove into the safety of the waters.

"Ghola, what are you doing? Calm down!"

"I don't remember your name!" she growled. "Mother had picked a name! She told Her, even though she wasn't supposed to-- but I don't remember it!"

"Why wasn't she supposed to say my name?"

"You're supposed to get an official name at your presentation ceremony. Most Gerudo just get presented to their family, but you were the Prince! Prince's get presented to everyone, a huge party! But that stupid Hylian showed up and ruined it!"

"Yeah, but, it's okay. I'm alive, right?" He said, using her own arguments against her. 

"You should have a name," Ghola grumped.

"It's okay, Falon gave me a name. I like being Gangrel."

"You're not mad at me?" 

"Of course not."

"Oh." She brightened considerably. With a wave of her hand all the words disappeared. "Well, good! Let's go into the temple!"

"Yeah, let's go," Gangrel said, hesitating, "it... was a Hylian, who killed them? The Hero of Courage, he's a Hylian?"

"Yep! Oh. Hmm. It's probably this way," she said, zipping toward the waterfall. "The pathway seems to continue around back here, and-- Oh!"

She flew high up into the sky and looked down, laughing. "Neat!"

"What?" Gangrel called.

"It's the symbol of the Merciful Goddess!" she said, returning to his side. "See the stones here form the crescents, and the deep black areas are the circles."

"I see it!" he said. 

"It seems to be a pretty plentiful motif around this temple. Keep that in mind," Ghola said.

Gangrel gave her a confused look, but nodded, "All right. Can do." He said, continuing along the pathway. It did continue behind the waterfall, where a staircase lead down into a cavern, a trickle of water coating the stairs. 

Inside the temple was all white and blue, polished stone and trickling water. Ghola held her lantern up, which glinted and reflected off of every surface. The room was short, but wide and a little ways past the middle there was an object standing and two unlit torches. 

"This looks like the Merciful Goddess symbol, but it's missing the orbs," Gangrel observed. He clinked his bracelets together and created a fireball, lighting first one torch, then the other.

"No, it's only missing one," Ghola said, pointing.

Gangrel looked back and noticed she was right, "Those weren't there before I lit the torches," he said.

"Maybe it's a puzzle then. If there's one thing the Merciful Goddess likes more than illusion, it's puzzle-- just another reason to be a Fierce Acolyte instead."

"Is there another torch around here?" Gangrel asked, looking around.

"I don't see one, but I don't think the priestesses would be able to light a torch in a weird place. They weren't magic, like you. The only magic commonly available was ice arrows."

"Ice. Ice ice ice," Gangrel pondered, clanging his bracelets together until they turned blue. "Ice."

The room, though large, had no conspicuous targets or buttons, levers or anything that looked freezable. There were two doors, one to the left, and one to the right. He crossed to the left door, which opened to a small workshop: a table, an barred but otherwise open window in the ceiling letting sun in, and numerous pots of long dried out substances. Across the entrance room, to the right, was a room of old, musty beds.

"So, it's gotta be something in here," Gangrel said, looking around the room. There were two deep pools on either side of the entrance stairs, and another one running the length of the room behind the Goddess symbol. 

"Hold this" Ghola said, holding out her lantern. Gangrel took it without thinking, still pondering the room. After a moment, dripping wet, Ghola returned. "I found rupees!" 

"Where?"

"Bottom of the pools," she said, pointing. She shoved the rupees into the depths of her cowl. "Oh, hey, another skulltula! Want it?"

"No, thank you," he said, shaking his head and holding her lantern back out to her.

He paced and pondered the dilemma. "Two torches, three missing orbs. Ice arrows. Orbs."

He looked at the symbol. The missing orb was the bottom one.

"Hmm."

He walked up to the symbol and held his hand in front of it, judging the size. In both hands he tried to create a snowball, but the magic flowed freely and he ended up with a ball of solid ice. He crouched and nudged it against the bottom of the statue. 

"It's too big, and it's all hard. How did I make it too big, and measured and everything." 

"It's probably easier to make ice here, with all the moisture and cool and stuff. You don’t need to be precise anyway, ice arrows aren’t precise. Put your hand to the hole and just make it cold.”

He shrugged and dropped the ice ball, then placed his hand over the empty space. Just as Ghola has implied, the ice filled up the space perfectly. Then the entire construction tilted slightly, and then fell over.

Wide eyed, Gangrel stood up and looked around. "It was an accident!"

"You did it!" Ghola cheered.

"I did, but I didn't mean to!"

"No, you did it, good job, look!"

The statue sank into place, creating a bridge over the long pool of water. The wall trembled and a door opened, exposing a staircase leading further down into the temple.

"Oh. I did!"

"Let's go!" Ghola said.

This staircase, lead down to large, tall room. The room had two levels, but with no obvious way to get to the second level. There were four torches in the middle of the room, which Gangrel lit quickly so he could see. This had the added benefit of causing a large block, about two feet square, to appear in the middle of the room between the pillars.

"Huh, I wonder what that's for," he mused out loud.

"There's books up here!" Ghola yelled from the second level. "And a doorway, but it's got some sorta lock on it. It looks like a puzzle."

"Well, that's great-- how do I get up there?"

"Climb on that block?"

He looked at it. "It's not high enough."

"Well, there has to be a way, priestesses can't fly. Look around."

The second level had a railing all around it, except for two spots on opposite sides of the room. On the floor in front of the openings there were four slightly raised squares. He mentally numbered them, and tapped one with his foot. The first one bobbed slightly, causing all the others to raise and fall. The second and third did the same thing. Stepping on the fourth caused the other three to rise slightly. One rose the most, two second most and three rose only slightly. He pressed harder and they rose higher respectively.

The square was about the same size as the block that had appeared in the middle of the torches. 

"Okay, I get it," Gangrel said. He moved his foot off the block and stepped back. Gesturing, he slid the block from the center of the room over to him and tried to get it onto the square, but finesse eluded him and he had to push it into place by hand. The floor blocks rose, creating a bulky, but manageable set of stairs.

Ghola watched him climb the stairs. "This is a book," she said, gesturing to the shelves that lined the walls. "Lots of them, actually."

Gangrel pulled one off the shelf at random and looked at it, opening it curiously.

"You're going backwards."

"How can you tell, you didn't even look at the inside."

"Because you opened it wrong. It's left to right, this side is the front."

"Oh," he said, flipping it over. "Like this?"

"Yep."

"What does it say?" He asked.

"What do you mean, what does it say? It's a book, it has thousands and thousands of words in it. Hold it up," Ghola said, holding her lantern up to the spine. "It's about... The Economic History of the Death Mountain: Gorons, Rocks and Rubies."

"Death Mountain? That sounds awful!" He said, putting the book back quickly.

"It's just a name. The mountain barely kills anyone. I mean, it is a volcano, so I'm sure it's killed some people..." she noticed Gangrel's confused expression. "Volcanos are mountains that are so hot inside that stones melt."

"Stones can melt?" 

"Anything can melt, if you get it hot enough. That's how you make swords, by melting stones until the metal comes out, or something like that, I dunno exactly," Ghola waved her empty hand dismissively. "Let's see, this book is about Gorons... this book is about Gorons. And this one. This whole section looks like Gorons and Death Mountain. Gorons are the natives of Death Mountain, by the way. Oh, over here we have a section on Zoras and Lake Hylia. Deku Scrubs! They live in the Kokiri Forest. They're cute, but not very social. Oh, and this one is about Moblins-- no one likes them very much, you don't see them around a lot. We're getting into monsters now, we've got Peahats, Octoroks, Deku Babas, Skulltulas-- what, no recipe books? Must be a different section I guess."

"We should come back when I learn to read," Gangrel said, running his hands along the shelves, "I want to know everything. We could bring Falon! She wants to know everything too."

"Most of these look pretty boring. History, economics-- that's money talk-- trade routes, aristocracy-- that's rich and royal people-- socio-political something something, I don't even know some of this stuff. Here's stuff on humans! Oh, anatomy!" Ghola hefted a book more than twice her size with remarkable ease and flipped through it. "Hehehe, naked," she giggled, holding it out to Gangrel.

He looked at the image and slowly tilted his head. "Huh. That's... interesting."

Slowly, he flipped a page. This one had more words on it, but still some interesting pictures. "Oh. That... uh, is normal?" He asked, a blush tinging his cheeks.

Ghola looked down at the picture and giggled even harder. "Well... She was only ten, so she didn't have any 'hands on' experience, but she has so many older sisters with loud mouths and, yeah, that's apparently very normal. And hilarious, look at it!"

"Yes, I-I know."

"Hehehe, boys," Ghola chuckled. She turned the page, "oh, and that's where babies come from!"

Somehow, Gangrel's eyes found a way to widen even further.

"W-w-we should pro-probably keep, uh, keep going," Gangrel said, looking away and blushing as bright as the insides of a melon.

"I guess you're right," Ghola said, sliding the book back into the shelf. "There's the door."

In the center of the upper level there was a door, with nine sections squared off on it, but only eight squares.

"A sliding puzzle? Boo, they're really hard," Ghola whined.

Gangrel looked at the doorway, and the puzzle. "How hard is it? It seems kind of simple for such an important doorway. This is the way to the Goddess, isn't it?"

"It's the way to the inner sanctum, I'm sure, but there are probably more puzzles beyond it. Power is straight forward, and courage just requires a leap of faith, but there's no short cuts to wisdom, only takes time and effort." 

"Well, all right," Gangrel said, shrugging. He looked at the eight tiles, and the strange but familiar marks on them. He touched the puzzle gently, sliding a block to the side, and noting how the marks matched up.

"Oh, I see. It's the Fierce Goddess Symbol," he said, running his fingers along two of the squares. Ghola turned and gestured to the mark on the back of her cowl, and he nodded. "So, they don't come off, I just slide them until they're in the right spots?" 

"Yeah, it's really tough, and frustrating, because you always end up with that one corner piece that belongs over here, but is over here instead! Argh!" Ghola gestured angrily, shaking a tiny fist a the puzzle.

"Is there a time limit? Or a move limit?" he asked.

Ghola listened. "Well, you already moved one and nothing made any ticking, or tocking noises to imply counting down, so, I'm going to say no."

"Well, then it's just a game of patience, isn't it?" he said.

"Yes! Ugh! Curse you, patience!" Ghola lamented.

Gangrel rolled his eyes and slid one of the pieces down. He moved the puzzle in a circular direction, watching how the shapes matched up with other pieces. 

"Ugh," Ghola whined, "it's taking forever! Minutes and minutes and minutes!"

"You can sit and watch me sleep for hours and hours, but a few minutes to solve a puzzle is too much for you?"

"I don't love the puzzle," Ghola said, crossing her arms.

Gangrel scoffed, but smiled. He slid one more piece around and the door clicked open, revealing another staircase.

They went down, entering another two level room.

"This looks like the same room we were just in," Gangrel said, walking over the threshold.

"No, it's a little different," Ghola said.

With a splash, Gangrel disappeared through the illusionary floor and into the pool beneath. His thin, gawky body quickly sank to the bottom, despite his enthusiastic flailing. The walls were sheer and smooth and though not exceedingly deep, still went well over his head.

The sudden drop had taken him by surprise; his lungs were beginning to burn and though it was far too high to reach, he desperately leapt for the surface.

His fingers grasped the edge of the pit and his feet kicked and and pushed at the smooth wall, until he managed to scrape his torso out of the water.

"That's different, for one," Ghola chirped.

"You could have warned me!" Gangrel snarled.

"You were in the water before I could! It's foolish to rush in a temple."

"I could have died!"

"It's not that deep, and you're fine. Take a deep breath and climb out."

"Everything is soaked," he whined, pulling his boots off and dumping them out. He pulled his scarf off and twisted it dryish, then stared down at his pants. "It's the soggy unders that's the worst."

"You're clean now."

"No, I'm wet. They're not the same," he said. He tied the scarf around his waist, rather than strangle himself with a damp cloth. He looked around the room. There were, yet again, raised squares on either side of the room, in front of the open second of railing.

"We could go back outside and dry in the sun," Ghola suggested.

"I'd rather keep moving forward," he admitted, "once we get to the Goddess, maybe I can set up a fire or something."

He walked over to the balcony. There were more raised squares in the floor here. He numbered them the same and tested each one with his foot, but they wouldn't budge.

In the center of the room there was a button. "How big is the water pit? Could I jump it?"

"Easily. It's here to here," Ghola said, floating around and pointed, "and it goes all the way around. You could also just freeze it."

"I dunno, it's pretty big, that would take a lot of magic."

"Nah, remember the ice ball? Bigger than intended without even trying. Ice magic is way easier around water. And you don't have to freeze all of it-- just enough to walk across."

Nervously, Gangrel clacked the bracelets back to being blue. He held his palms toward the pit and conjured the cold as best he could.

It was much easier in the cooler, damp environment, as became obvious a moment too late. The illusion dispelled as the water froze audibly cracking and creaking, expanding beyond the rim of the pit. Mist twirling off his fingertips and gathered at his feet; breathing was near painful, his breath clouding in front of him. Ice formed around the base of his boots, holding him to the stone floor, creeping up his legs and freezing his soaking pant legs.

He yelped and jumped away, his boots sticking to the icy floor and sending him onto his rump. His pant legs crackled, raining flakes of ice around his ankles as the fabric folded and creased.

"You over did it a bit," Ghola said.

"Y-y-yeah, I n-n-noticed!" Gangrel jittered, gritting his teeth. He tried to push himself up, but his hands slid on the slick icy floor, sending him back onto his back, his skull bouncing off the cold stone. "Ow!" He yelped. He clanged the bracelets together thrice and slammed both his palms against the stone with a snarl.

"Hey!" Ghola yelped, twirling away from the ensuing fireball.

In a circle around him the stone was dry as a bone. Warm, dry and slightly singed, steam curled away from him forming odd, scale-like shapes. Gangrel pushed himself up and with a sneer he gestured, pushing the button from a distance. The stone blocks under the second level balcony began to rise and descend mechanically. He scoffed and strode over to them, hopping from one to the other as they rose and fell, reaching the second level easily.

"Are you going to apologize?" Ghola demanded, floating after him.

"For what?" he snapped, rubbing the back of his head angrily.

"You scared me! And you made a big fireball without even looking around! Also, we are in a library-- surrounded by books. Books burn, Gangrel-- they burn fast. You let your emotions get the best of you and you could have screwed up BIG TIME. You are very lucky." She floated between the railing and waved at the slightly darkened wood, "do you see this? This here? Burn marks!" 

Gangrel leaned over the banister and looked, running his fingers over the still warm wood. His eyes widened as realization sunk in. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I barely realized what I was doing."

"You've been doing really well the last few days, but you have to watch your temper," Ghola said, her tone softening. "Especially now that you're achieving your potential. Now that you can use these powers your tantrums are even more dangerous."

"I'm sorry Ghola. I slipped and it hurt, and then I realized that I'd been wasting my time. I have these powers, I need to remember to use them! I wasted energy and time and patience trying to freeze a path to a button I didn't need to approach to press, I was so mad at myself... Why do I have to be so stupid?"

"You're far from stupid. Sure, you're not educated, but you're very bright and resourceful. You make mistakes sometimes, that okay, you can't beat yourself up over them. It's a downward spiral when you do that. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"What do you understand?" Ghola asked, in as motherly a manner as she could manage.

"I'm not stupid. I make mistakes sometimes, but I shouldn't punish myself because of it.”

"Good job! You learned a thing, and you didn't burn any of these--" she glanced at the nearest bookspine. "Ledgers? Records? Boring! Nevermind, you can burn them. Or, you can solve another sliding puzzle!" Ghola said, gesturing to the door. "Some people consider these fun. I consider them a form of punishment, but that's just me, I guess. You're pretty fast with it."

Gangrel looked at it. It was a twelve square puzzle this time, featuring the Great Goddess' Symbol, but something seemed off. He started moving the pieces immediately, his brow creasing as he worked.

"This isn't right. Most of these are in the right place, but they're in the wrong direction, like they been turned on their side," he mumbled. His fingers ran along the edge of the puzzle. A frame ran along all the edges except the rightmost edge, which was missing, allowing the sides of sliding pieces to be exposed.

He tugged on the edge of the piece and it popped up, allowing him to twist it. "Hmm," he grumbled, scowling. "This will take a few minutes then. I have to find the pieces that need to be turned and get them over here so I can turn them."

"Uggggggh," Ghola whined, flopping to the floor. "Leave me here, to die."

"You're already dead," Gangrel said, cupping his chin and thinking.

Slowly, one eyebrow arched to a thought. Releasing his chin, he held his hand over one of the center pieces and concentrated. It popped obediently, allowing him to twist it in the right direction and push it back into place.

A few minutes later the door clicked and slid open.

"Get up," Gangrel said, nudging Ghola with his boot.

"No, it's pointless. Go back without me."

"I opened the door, come on."

"Oh." She flitted back up to his side, "let's go!"

The stairwell led them to another two level room.

"Another one?!" Ghola whined.

"This is probably the last one: the Fierce Goddess, the Great Goddess and the Merciful Goddess."

Floating upward through the floor, Ghola groaned loudly, "uggggggh, this one is five by five!"

"Well, it's a good thing you don't have to deal with it, isn't it? Are there any hidden water pits I'm going to fall into?"

"Just one, in the same spot as the previous floor. Surrounding those two blocks you probably need to solve a puzzle."

"Great," he said, walking over toward the balcony opening just like before.

Numbering them the same as before, he stepped on the fourth stone, which like last time cause block 3 to rise-- but only block 3. It sank when he removed his weight, see-sawing until it returned to neutral. He went to block 3 and pressed on it, which caused block 4 to rise. He tried block 2, which did nothing. Block one caused block 4 to rise.

"Huh."

He put one foot on block one and forced it down as far as his strength and height would allow, which was about a foot. This caused block four to rise by about a foot. He released the block and watched as block 4 sank below the floor, pushing block one up just short of a foot. They see-sawed a few times before returning to neutral.

"Mm-hmm."

He looked at the center of the room, at the two blocks. 

"I bet there's a reset button if you mess up," Ghola said cheerfully.

"I think I have a better idea."

He looked down at block one and concentrated, forcing it down as far as he could, seeing how far up block 4 would go. It went up about four feet. He looked down the hole that was where block one had been. Focusing on not letting go to early, he put his foot over the hole, crouched slightly and released.

It pushed him up about three and a half feet before he jumped and clotheslined across the balcony, knocking the air out of himself.

"Ow," he mumbled, when his breath returned. He pulled himself up onto the second level and brushed himself off. "I did it!"

"I'm sure there's a more... dignified way of solving that puzzle," Ghola said, flat.

"I. Did. It." Gangrel repeated, staring at her.

"You did it!" she said, waving her arms in faux enthusiasm. "Actually, that was pretty clever. Not exactly graceful, but clever."

"Thank you," He said, smiling.

"Time for super hard puzzle!" she continued, gesturing dramatically to the puzzle.

Like the previous puzzle, this one looked a bit off, with certain pieces turned the wrong way. It too had an open space to access the recessed edges of the pieces, but this space was only one block wide and was on the left instead of the right.

"Well, the center piece is already in place, but it's upside down, that's just mean. Mean to people without magic powers," he said, gesturing at it. It refused to rise, sitting firmly upside down, jiggling faintly and ready to be slid, but refusing to upright itself. "It's upside down and I can't turn it."

"Odd. I think the Hylian's depict the Merciful Goddess' symbol upside down-- they've got this weird hang up and triangular shapes being pointy-side up."

"All right, I guess. Upside down then," Gangrel said, going to work on the puzzle. After several minutes of Gangrel stopping, and twisting pieces and changing things Ghola floated away to look at the books.

"There's no anatomy books over here," she lamented.

"Good!"

"You're just lucky you don't have a whole bunch of older cousins to tease you. She did. So many, all with wide hips and big bazooms and boyfriends from the city." She looked over at Gangrel, who was looking at the floor. "Although, it might be just as hard having no one at all."

Gangrel paused in his puzzling to look at her. He heaved a large sigh and shrugged, then looked back at the puzzle. 

Ghola weaved back and forth thoughtfully for a moment, looking at the books. 

"These are all stories. Just made up stories from around the world."

"Is that allowed? It seems like lying."

"It's only lying if you claim its true. Many stories aren't true, like the story the Great Goddess told you the night we arrived-- the second story. About a Hero and Princess living happily ever after."

"That was just a story?"

Ghola nodded, "yeah, from what I hear, Princesses marry Princes, or other nobles-- not heroes or swordsmen or honest and good farm hands. Royal marriages are unions between kingdoms, not people." 

"So, the Hero doesn't get to live happily ever after?"

"Oh, I'm sure he does. Just, not with the Princess."

"Oh," Gangrel said. "Do I have to marry a princess? I don't really have anything to offer a kingdom. My kingdom is... kinda of lacking. In power, or people, or anything."

"Yeah... but you've got a title that no one can dispute. Maybe you can marry a duchess or countess."

"Do I have to?"

"Well, no one is going to make you, because there's no one left to make you. Take that as you will," Ghola said, shrugging.

"Hm," Gangrel murmured, returning to the puzzle as Ghola continued to look over the books.

It was almost a half an hour later when Gangrel completed the puzzle. "There! Man, if this symbol weren't so... same-y it wouldn't have taken nearly so long."

"It's a pretty pattern-y shape, that's for sure," Ghola said, returning to his side, "let's go!"

"We can't. The door didn't unlock."

"Well, then you didn't finish it."

"I did! That's the shape, that's the symbol of the Merciful Goddess-- just, upside down."

He stood back and looked at it. The sliding puzzle was completed, the pieces all in place, but the entire puzzle seemed a little odd. The frame jutted out of the door more slightly more than the previous two had.

Running his fingers along the frame, he gave it a tug. The whole puzzle popped out an inch or two. "Ah ha!" he laughed. With a great grinding click he twisted it 180 degrees and pushed it back into place.

The door unlocked with a click and slid open.

"And you called yourself stupid," Ghola teased, ruffling Gangrel's hair. "Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you for reading this long chapter of fluff and world building, with very little plot involved. Until next chapter, Cheers.


	7. You Have No Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visiting the inner sanctum of the Merciful Goddess, our Heroes learn a new spell and some unpleasant truths.

They were very, very deep underground.

The stairwell beyond the third puzzle door had gone down about an additional level or two before opening into an enormous cavern. The full size of the cavern was unknown, darker than night and completely unlit. Gangrel had created a fireball and thrown it as far as he could, only to watch it disappear down into the darkness and disturb a swarm of keese.

The stairs were larger than the previous, standard stairwells-- about as wide as Gangrel was tall-- but ran against only one wall with no handrail or guard to prevent a long fall into uncertain depths.

Gangrel hugged the wall as they descended the long, curving path. Untying his scarf from around his waist he wrapped it around his shoulders-- it was still partly damp, but it still helped to protect against the growing chill of the cavern. Not an uncomfortable cold, but definitely cooler than he liked.

"It just keeps going," he said, looking out into the darkness. The darkness did not gaze back into him, only looming silent and huge dwarfing him with its seeming infinity.

Ghola ran her hand along the wall as well, "yeah, but it doesn't feel the same as the Fierce Goddess' Temple. Which is good, cause I am fresh outta prayers. Besides, we already had to unlock three doors, any more would just be ridiculous. Toss another fireball."

"Because that went so well last time," Gangrel muttered. "I don't think I'll be able to forget the sound of a thousand flapping wings just inches from my face."

"Aw, it wasn't that bad. Also, you startled, like, a million of 'em, there can't be many left down there."

Gangrel's stomach growled loudly. He clutched his stomach sadly, "urgh, I hope we find something soon, I'm getting really hungry." Raising his other hand he summoned a small fireball and tossed it.

There was a matching orange glow in the air below, growing as the fireball approached it. About forty feet down the fireball collided with its twin and disappeared with a hiss.

"What was that?" Gangrel asked.

"Water, it looks like."

"More water? It’s so still.”

"The world is mostly water, Gangrel. We just live in a desert. Deserts lack water."

"We should move some of this water up, that would help."

"Easier said than done."

They continued down the stairs until they do came to the still, mirror-like surface. The stairs disappeared into it, continuing down.

"What now?" Ghola asked.

Gangrel stared at his reflection silently. He ran his hand over his hair, watching.

"Gangrel?" Ghola said, looking at him, "Ganny? What are you looking at?"

A small, half-laugh escaped him, more of a sigh. "Me. That... that's me."

Ghola glanced at the water, where Gangrel's reflection stood still, Ghola's lantern floating beside it. "Haha, no reflection for me. But that's you for sure. Scrawny arms, scraggly hair, these here are your ribs," she poked him in the side.

He flinched away from her, "hey! That tickles, stop it."

Giggling she drifted over the water and looked at his reflection closer. "You have Mother's eyes," she said softly.

"Yeah?" he asked, "it's so strange…”

“What is?”

A shaky smile spread across his lips, “see… seeing another Gerudo. Even if it’s just me…”

Ghola looked back at him, then returned to his side, letting him look at himself a while longer. He stretched his arms and ruffled his hair, turning left and right. He crouched and got closer; he tapped his nose and grinned, looking at his teeth. He wobbled the rings dangling from his ears, and adjusted his crown.

Slowly, he reached his hand out, palm open, and pressed his hand against his reflections. The water rippled and wobbled, breaking the mirror sheen.

“Ah- righ t.So… where do we go from here?” Gangrel asked.

"Well, we can't go down anymore" Ghola lifted her lantern and peered out into the darkness. "I think I see a light that way. You wait here, and I'll go check. Don't move!"

She zipped away into the darkness before he could respond.

"Ghola, no!" he called as she zoomed off, leaving him in the darkness. He watched her lantern grow dimmer, but never quite disappear. Standing in the darkness he couldn't see his nose in front of his face. Alone, the cave seemed, somehow, even more infinite-- crushing in its infinitude. Water dripped faintly off in the dark, tinkling melodically and a faint wind whispered through the stone walls.

The green light of her lantern bobbed and shook in the distance, and then it was returning toward him.

_Remove your clothes and enter the water, young Prince. _A low, gentle voice rumbled in his chest.

"My clothes?" He asked.

_Your clothes and boots will soak in water and weigh you down. And, by your own words. _His own voice mimicked back at him, "It's the soggy unders that are the worst."

"I think I can tolerate them, for the sake of, ah, modesty. It seems rude to be naked in front of a Goddess," he said, adding to himself, "and Ghola has giggled at enough today."

_Undress as you wish and enter the water._

Gangrel sat on the stairs and pulled his boots off. Despite his fiery outburst the insides were still soggy from his earlier plunge and his feet had begun to wrinkle. He turned up his nose at the sodden, smelly boots and set them on the steps before removing his pants and folding them as neat as he could manage, setting the scarf and waterskin on top of them. The swords Maman had gifted him lay in their sheathes, still bound to the belt that lay on the steps, but he could feel them in his mind.

Ghola held the lantern up, waiting for him out over the water.

Stripped to his unders he stepped into the water.

"Cold cold cold," he muttered, stepping into the clear, frigid pool.

_You will adjust to the cold. Take a deep breath and hold it. Sink into the water, feel the air within you keeping you afloat._

Gangrel did as she said. He acclimated quickly, but the sensation of it on his skin was strange and new. He floated in the water like a bird on the wind. When he exhaled he felt himself sink like a stone.

_Take another step forward, then another. Until you must stand on your toes to reach the surface._

Hesitantly, he moved deeper in the water. The water in the Memorial Valley came from a crack in the northern wall. A spring, the Poes had told him. It ran down the wall into a shallow stone basin. The water was always the same temperature as the surrounding walls and tasted of dirt. Bathing involved scrubbing himself with a wet cloth and drying in the sun. Submerging in water seemed like a waste of water, but when there was this much water…

_Feel the water, wave your arms, sense it's motion, know it, know that it knows you. Do you feel how it moves between your fingers? Kick your legs, feel it between your toes._

Her voice was so calming. The water was becoming familiar. He pushed himself forward and back with simple movements of his arms.

_Be calm. Be certain. Be confident. You can move forward._

He tried moving forward, the stone steps falling away below him. There was nothing below him now but crystal clear water and inky blackness of depth. He sank, water coming up around his ears and he held his face above water.

_Calm. Kick your feet, push yourself above the water_

He took a deep breath just before his face sank below the water and remained calm, kicking his feet, batting at the water with his hands. The air in his lungs brought him up, bobbing like a tiny cork in the vast cold water. Slowly, but surely, he made his way across the dark water, following the lantern.

His fingers brushed against land, a shallow area covered in fine, slick mud and small smooth stones. The stones clicked and slid under his hands, and then feet as he climbed onto the submerged floor. Less than a foot deep, and just visible in the faint light from Ghola's lantern, the pebbly path lead toward a circle of blue-burning torches were set into a large ring of marble. Within the ring there was another huge pool of water, easily three or four times his height from one edge to the other. A pale shape rose from the darkness; a great and beautiful turtle.

She was silver and blue, like still water reflecting the empty sky, like mist around a waterfall, like a ball of frost under the desert sun. Her head was bowed, and the mark of the Merciful Goddess was present upon her forehead, repeating faintly in the very pattern of her pebbled skin. Her eyes were the deepest of of blues-- nearly black in their intensity; huge and soft, but neither kind, nor cruel. She was an observer, not a judge.

_Welcome, Child. You have come a long way to see me._

"Goddess," Gangrel said, bowing low, one hand on his head to hold his crown on.

_Stand. You have entered my home and are my guest._

"Thank you, Goddess. I, uh... I was sent--"

_I know why you are here. I know where you have been, and I know who you will affect. I know all creatures of the earth, from the smallest Picori and the largest Wind Fish. You will have my blessing in good time. What do _you_ desire to know?_

"I... I don't know. I just want to do what I have to do. To find my place."

_You have no place._

"... what?"

_You are an anomaly. The powers bestowed upon the King of the Gerudo by the Triforce of Power made him immortal. Hyrule's attempt to execute him were doomed to failure, destroying his physical form, but merely displacing his self-- his power-- until a time in which it could re-manifest and take his revenge. You, however, prove that this did not occur._

"How do I prove any of that?"

_You are the chosen one of the Goddess Din. You are the chosen Hero of the Great Goddess, and holder of the Triforce of Power. Thusly, you are the reincarnation of Ganondorf-_

"That name does sound familiar," Ghola interrupted.

\--_Former King of the Gerudo,_ The Merciful Turtle continued.

"Oh, that must be why," Ghola chuckled.

"But-- I don't want to be someone else, I want to be me!"

_Desire is irrelevant. The world exists as it exists, the lines of fate are not written by the likes of us. You have his power at your finger tips and his rage in your heart. Who are you, if not him?_

"I am me! And I refuse to be someone else! Goddess or not, I won't let you tell me who I am!"

The Merciful Turtle looked at him, and slowly blinked her large sparkling eyes. _The universe has its own plans. You would fight the very universe?_ she asked.

"Yes. I would." Gangrel crossed his arms stubbornly and frowned. After a moment, he began to rub his arms, fighting the cavern chill.

_ I see. If you are cold you may light the lanterns with true fire. Careful not touch the flames, they will freeze your flesh to the bone._

Gangrel hesitated, his arms halfway toward the flickering blue ice-flames. He could feel the chill radiated from them, like the essence of Kotake's lantern. Igniting a fireball and carefully maneuvering it onto the torch, the icy blue disappeared, replaced by a natural, warmth radiating flame.

He moved to the other four lanterns doing the same. It made a vast difference.

_Good. Please, sit Child. My Hero can see the future, but all other mortals learn only from the past. I will show you the past._

Gangrel returned to the turtle's head and sat in front of her, on the marble rim of the pool, leaning against a lantern.

Just above the water, an image appeared. A young girl wearing a flowing dress of white and purple, her head covered by a demure scarf and hat. She looked very hopeful, and brave. 

_Sixty-four years ago Zelda, the Princess of Hyrule, began to manifest her powers as the Hero of Wisdom. Amongst these powers was precognition-- seeing events before they have occurred. The approach of the Gerudo King, his attempts to take the Triforce, the arrival of Link, the collecting of the Sacred Stones, all of these things appeared to her in a dream._

These notions appeared as blurs of colors around the illusionary girl; looming brown, red and gold, shining yellow lights, a tiny but bright green blur, a set of glimmers, green, red and blue.

_ She was a child, not even as old as you. She did not yet understand the ways of the world, or her own powers. She only knew that Ganondorf's actions would cause her people to suffer. She knew that Link was the key to Ganondorf's defeat. She knew that the three Spiritual Stones were necessary for the defeat of Ganondorf. She assumed the dream was a prophecy, a message that she could stop these things from occurring._

_ She was wrong._

_ These events were always to come to pass. All of her actions, which she meant to prevent this disaster, were in fact crucial to its happening. Collecting the stones, entrusting the Ocarina of Time to Link, the ascension of the sages, Ganondorf's rise and fall, these were all events written in stone._

_ After Ganondorf's defeat, she grew depressed, believing that all she had done had been for naught. Hindsight is always seen through eyes unclouded. She could see now she had not avoided these events, she had ensured them._

_ She wanted so badly to prevent any suffering amongst her people, she sought so deeply to change the fate of the world that she devised a solution. She sent Link, the Hero of Time, the chosen Hero of Courage, back to the past with the knowledge and power to stop Ganondorf's rise to power. Thus, she cursed herself to a worse fate._

The Merciful Turtle gave a wheezing sigh, _Multiplicity._

She looked at Gangrel, who looked back her, waiting and unsure. After a moment, he mumbled, "I... uh, don't know that word."

The Turtle gave an annoyed grumble, and explained. The image of Zelda split thrice.

_By forcing the universe to change, she created, _disdain tinged the Goddess' voice, _deviations. Her attempts at peace, her foolish approach to pacifism, caused reality to rip itself asunder, into three separate realities. The first and proper reality in which Ganondorf rose to power and fell to disgrace, a second in which Ganondorf was taken into custody and executed, preventing his rise to power completely, and a third universe in which the Hero of Time failed and Ganondorf's reign continued._

"Wait, how did the third universe happen?" Ghola interrupted. "It only makes sense to have two universes."

The Turtle's huge eyes rolled to look at Ghola, and she scoffed. _You understand the ways of the universe so well as to question me?_

"Mmmmmaybe I do," Ghola said.

"Excuse her, she speaks without thinking. Please continue," Gangrel said.

The Turtle wheezed a thin, irritated sigh. _As the crux of the sundering, as well as being burdened with the glorious knowledge that comes with being the Hero of Wisdom, she suffers from awareness of all her concurrent existences. She is aware of the suffering she has caused, as well as the lives she has prevented and realities she has created. She must always be aware, at the back of her mind, the fore-front of her dreams, all the lives that she has touched. In her quest to fight fate, to preserve peace, she has created for herself turmoils innumerable._

_ She suffers, to this day, knowing behind all her normal, mortals actions, that there is always more. When she looks down over the castle town of Hyrule, she must know and see the buildings collapsed under the dust of war. Every person she comes into contact with, she knows, if they would have lived or died without her interference. Every life she protected, or ended, is on her hands and in her heart at all times._

_ That is the price of fighting the universe._

The illusory Zeldas faded away.

Gangrel looked at his feet, at the cool, pale marble, at the firelight flickering upon the water, and considered what the Turtle had said.

"In the end, did she bring more peace to the world? To this world?"

The Merciful Turtle lowered her head.

_I will not say what may have been, only what has occurred. There is blood on her hands, but her kingdom lives in peace, prosperity and happiness. She has grown into a wise woman, much loved by her people, friends and family. Despite this curse, she has managed happiness._ The Turtle opened her eyes and looked at Gangrel, _If you asked her if she regretted her choices, she would say no._

Gangrel nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay. I understand. But, I'm afraid I can not take your lesson to heart. If I must suffer to bring happiness and peace to my people, then I will."

The Merciful Turtle said nothing, gazing at him with her huge blue-black eyes, her fins waving slowly within the tiny pool. Her huge head turned as looked up into the dark heights, then, with half-lidded eyes, down into the black depths. _I see._

Gangrel tilted his head, looking at her.

_I agree, that is the wise choice. You have taught me something, it seems, Child._

"I have?"

_Yes. You choose to suffer so your people will not, and I can see that this is the pragmatic solution. Zelda chooses this, and I find it... unpleasant. The same choice, made for the same reasons, should not garner two separate opinions. I was allowing myself to be clouded by emotion. I love Zelda. She is my chosen one, and I do not wish for her to suffer, but these are the choices that mortals must make._

Gangrel considered this for a moment, then nodded. "I think I understand. I feel kinda the same way sometimes."

_I sense another question, child. What do you wish to know?_

"Do... do I have a people?" he asked. She said nothing, so he elaborated. "Are there Gerudo still?"

She blinked slowly, and raised her head, gazing into the black cavern overhead.

_There is one living Gerudo left in this desert, and he stands before me now._

"No... no, there have to be more."

_Do you doubt my knowledge?_

"No, of course not, but I... well... I want there to be more... and she said..."

The Turtle looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"She... she said 'your father kept you,'-- if, if she thought that, there must be others..."

_Whom?_

"Falon... Falon's grandmother. I... Once I snuck out to the ranch with Falon, while they were having a gathering. Falon gave me an old dress and a hat, and we pretended I was a girl, just another visitor, so I could see the goat shearing, and go to their cookout. I met Falon's Grandmother, and she said..." Gangrel took a deep breath, "she said I looked like a Gerudo, and that I should go thank my father for keeping me. She said I wasn't living like a Gerudo, so I didn't... I didn't die like a Gerudo..."

_I see, _the Turtle said. _But there in lies your answer. There are those, out there, who do not, as she said 'live like Gerudo' -- they carry the blood of the Gerudo in their veins, but they wouldn't not call themselves Gerudo, or even know their origin. They wear no family marks, theirears are pointed and their loins bears sons. They made their mark across the land, but the Gerudo as you knew them are gone._

"But why? Why were they killed? How can you be so calm?"

_Emotions are irrelevant. What happened, has happened. It was always to happen. The death of the Gerudo people was the most reliable way to prevent Ganondorf's return. From a pragmatic viewpoint, the deaths of several hundred Gerudo was an acceptable price for the safety of the entire world._

"That... that's it? To prevent Ganondorf returning? But, according to you, they failed!"

_Did they? _The Turtle asked. _Do you accept the universe's role for you already? Will you seek revenge, and rebuild the world to your liking, as he intended?_

He looked down at his hands. The bangles he'd been gifted glowed, pulsing with the racing of his heart. The anger inside him roared in approval and he looked up the Merciful Turtle with burning eyes.

"Gangrel," Ghola whimpered.

He blanched, and the burning in his heart was gone.

"I-I don't-- no. I won't," Gangrel murmured. "I won't! Revenge solves nothing. I'm more confused than I was when I arrived. The Great Goddess made it sound like... like Ganondorf was right, and good... or, at worst, simply mistaken... Goddess, was he evil?"

_To be evil is to be morally corrupt; morals are subjective. Objectively, his actions were ambitious and driven by personal desires-- these are traits he was raised to have and thus would not consider amoral. The Hylians were living a peaceful and prosperous life before his arrival, and would consider his usurpation amoral, and thusly evil._

_ Zelda, to this day, considers him evil. But, to that measure, she also feels that her order to destroy the Gerudo was amoral and tragic-- a "necessary evil"-- an evil done for the greater good._

"Zelda," Gangrel whispered, "... The Princess of Hyrule-- your Hero of Wisdom... She ordered the death of my people?"

_To be brief: yes, she did. To be factual, she was neither Princess, nor Queen, of Hyrule when the order was given. She stepped down from the throne after her husband died, leaving the ruling to her son, King Daphnes. It was not the Queen who gave the order; it was not an official military or political order, for that would have constituted an act of war. This was the order, a difficult choice made woman who had fought Ganondorf once and did not wish him upon the world again, executed by her dearest friend and consort, The Hero of Time._

Ghola gave a small gasp, and clutched her hands to her face.

"How could she-- how could they do that, and call themselves heroes?...How could you let her do that?" Gangrel asked, still staring at the floor.

_Choosing the lesser or two evils is pragmatism at its core. Ganondorf's reign would have turned the world on its head. Revolutions would have been fierce and bloody, and the world would have been dramatically changed, though ultimately it can not be said if the change would have been good or bad. I am merely an agent of the Goddess and it is not my place to question the actions of heroes. Zelda made her choice, and the deaths she has caused are on her hands-- but so are the lives she has saved. Heavy is the head that wears the crown._

Gangrel's hand rose to the crown sitting upon his brow. He took a few deep breaths, trying to settle the information he'd just received. Names, titles, people; though their murder had occurred so long ago, a fresh sting arose from old mental scars.

Y_ou have another question. Ask._

His eyes looked toward her, though his head did not raise.

"I..." His voice trembled, not just from the chill, but from the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I was born to be a king. They died for me, protecting me... I want to be the king they wanted me to be. But... Will I ever... How...Can I be a King?"

_By Gerudo Law, you would be crowned King as soon as you achieved adulthood. By Hylian Law, a crown prince does not ascend to the throne until they have been wed. By Goron Law, you can not be King until you've slain a great monster. By Zora Law, you must challenge the current King to a battle and defeat him or his chosen warrior. By Deku Law, you would need to prove that you had more potent pollen than the current King._

"That's... not what I meant."

_King is just a title. If you wish to be a leader of men, you must be worthy of following. If you wish to have a place in this world, you must carve it yourself. If you--_

Gangrel's stomach growled loudly. Both Ghola and the Merciful Turtle turned their eyes to him.

_Perhaps that is enough for today, _she said. _You are hungry._

"Sorry... I really am," Gangrel said, "it was a long trip down here, and I only had melon for breakfast. And a heart container, but I'm still not entirely sure what those do..."

The Merciful Turtle chuckled. _Then it is time to eat. _She sank into the pool, disappearing below the ripples. What rose from the pool was a woman, though undeniably a godly one. Her short hair stuck damply to her head, her eyes were a little too large, but still the same wise, watching blue-black. Her ears were without piercings, but she wore a crown of the Merciful Goddess' symbol, as well as two golden rings piercing her lower lip, and one in her nose. Her long skirt and sleeves trailed through the water as she walked across it, stepping out of the pool easily.

Taking one of the torches from its place, she gestured out into the darkness. "Follow me."

Gangrel followed, without questioning.

The path curled around behind the pool, and off into the cavern, the stepping stones of varying heights and sizes and textures: some coarse and sandy, others slick and slimy, small and rounded, flat and tilted, and all awkward to navigate in the dim light. The Turtle had no problems with the uneven stones, walking a top the water instead; more than once Gangrel slipped and tumbled into the water, and the Merciful Turtle would stop and wait while he splashed inelegantly back onto the path.

The journey was not long, but the impromptu swims did not help with his hunger and by the time the Turtle stopped he was ravenous, exhausted and certain he couldn't have conjured a single snowflake, or moved a bottle a inch.

A doorway stood, a few feet off of the path they'd been following, on a smoother and more uniform walkway. Two torches on either side of the door glowed with the same cold blue flames that had threatened to freeze him before. The Turtle brought the torch flame to each one, replacing them with the warm and healing light of true fire.

A curtain of shells and small shiny stones hung from the lintel; there was no wind for the curtain to cut and little light to obscure, but the soft twinkling tinkle the stones made as they entered made their soothing purpose obvious. The room had been, at one time, entirely white with desert marble, but this was no longer the case. The ceiling was darkened by what seemed like soot, trailing up to a small dark hole in the roof,the walls were hung with colorful clothes, still bright in their room free of the bleaching sunlight, and scrolls covered in pictures and writing. There were six pillars, tangled netting dangling between them, at even spacing around the room, and in the center of the room a simple, hollow stone circle full of old ash. Cut in the walls evenly spaced around the room were three bowls cut out of the walls; a modest but steady flow of water poured from the, trickling over the edge of the bowl and down the wall to a small moat that circled the entire room.

"This cavern was originally meant to be used as a meditation center. Stark, simple and without distraction. But, as time went on, being a priestess became less about simply being wise, and more about being just and fair. Moderating arguments, handling disputes, enforcing laws... Stress and pressure began to be a bigger problem in their lives, so they converted this room from a place of harsh prayer, to a treasury of relaxation," The Turtle said, letting the beaded curtain fall back, the stones singing peacefully.

"Remarkably clean, for being in the bottom of a cave," Ghola remarked, touching one of the wall tapestries, which squished moistly under the touch. She wiped her hand on her cowl and gave a disgusted groan.

The Turtle raised the torch to a construction dangling from the ceiling, lighting each of its four lanterns. "Mildew has gotten into the weavings, and moss grows in the fountains, but the water is clear and clean, and the furnishing is still comfortable. Will fish be acceptable?" She asked, lodging the torch between two paving stones and letting it lean against the pit.

"Acceptable for what? They're pretty neat, I got to see live ones for the first time today, in the water outside the temple. There was also a turtle, and a frog, and some weird long dragon... dragonbug."

"Dragonfly," Ghola corrected, jiggling a span of netting that decorated the wall. Hanging of it were a variety of shells and stone shapes.

The Turtle chuckled, "Acceptable as a meal."

"Oh! Yeah, it's fine. With all respects, Goddess, I wouldn't turn down anything right now. Not even skulltulas," he added, glancing at Ghola, who was poking and prodding at the decor.

"Delicious, delicious skulltulas," Ghola mourned, balancing a half a scallop shell on her head.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. You are my guest, after all," The Goddess said. "I have a gift for you-- not now, but when you are fed and rested. But, I shall demonstrate it now as it will make work go quicker."

"Oh?" Gangrel asked, looking at her curiously.

Closing her eyes, she lowered her head. She raised her right hand and held it, palm outward, to her side. She bowed, but not too low, her hand remaining in place. Standing again, she stepped forward, left first moving first, and walked in a circle, with her hand maintaining the center of the circle. She slid her right foot forward into a kneel, stood, then kneeled on the left. She slid back to standing, then onto her toes, which were just visible below her long skirt, and spun in one full circle, and then a half.

As she stopped, the air in front of her palm glinted for a moment, like a thinnest sheet of ice in the air. She knelt again, first right then left. Her palm moved up and down in space as she knelt, and all the surface before it seemed to shine faintly, reflecting the faintest reflection of the Merciful Turtle's humanoid form.

She turned to the reflection and put her left hand up as well. The faint vision grew more vibrant as each hand met its reflection. The Turtle raised her head, and opened her eyes. The sheen separating her and her reflection disappeared like dust in the wind, and there stood two Merciful Turtles.

Gangrel gaped wordlessly.

"Many hands make light work," the Turtle said. She nodded to her double, who headed out into the cavern.

"What was that?" Gangrel gasped.

"That is the Shadow Prayer, it creates a vacant, puppet form."

"That wasn't a puppet-- puppets have strings!" Ghola insisted, raising her hands up and down in mimicry. The scallop 'hat' fell off her head and clattered to the ground. "And your 'vacant' needs some work, I saw life in those eyes. Try harder.”

The Turtle smirked, "I am a skill puppeteer. The beginner acolytes could barely create more than a doll, good for little but distractions and holding switches. The Priestesses could create a functional puppet, but it took all of their concentration to control it, making it useful for maneuvering in dangerous, or inhospitable locations, but not for multi-tasking."

"Then, why teach me? I'm not even an acolyte, what could I do?"

The puppet returned, carrying an armload of sodden wood. She dropped it into the fire pit in the middle of the room, and left again.

"You have Power and precedent is on your side. I believe you could be an excellent puppeteer. Ganondorf has created several Shadow-puppets around the kingdom, within the temples and dungeons of Hyrule; some linger still. If you encounter any of them, knowing how they work would give you an advantage."

"Hyrule... am I going to Hyrule?"

"It is likely, but I repeat that, as an anomaly, your future is unclear to me."

Casually, she opened a chest near the door and removed a plate, a bowl and a cup; wiping them off with her damp skirt, she set then on the edge of a central fire pit, then returned to the chest.

"Hyrule," Gangrel whispered, leaning against one of the stone pillars. He leaned back, and bumped his head against a lump on the stone. Rubbing his head, he looked at the pillar. A small raised section held a rope from slipping any lower. The rope was connected to a tangled stretch of ropes, wrapped around some blankets.

"What is this?"

"That is a hammock."

"What's it for?" Gangrel looked at the tangle and found it to be much more organized than it looked at first. "Oh, it's a net! Why would to hang a net like this? In here? This high? I can't imagine you get a lot of rabbits down here. It's full of blankets."

The Turtle chuckled, "it is not for catching rabbits, it is for sleeping." She took several metal rods out of the chest and carried them over the pit, hooking them together and setting the ends into notches in the stone.

"Sleeping?" He stared at the netting for a moment, pulling and watching it stretch and collapse, moving it this way and that. "Oh, okay, I see it. Is it safe? I'd be nervous sleeping in a net trap."

"As long as it's hitched securely, it's quite safe. If hitched poorly, it can fall. An unpleasant surprise, but not harmful, generally." Now she carried a round metal pot and a chain.

"It's so... bouncy. And wobbly. How are you supposed to sleep if you're all wobbly?"

"Many find being rocked soothing. It brings them back to thoughts of the security of infancy," The Turtle said. Hanging the pot from the tripod, she waved her hands over it.

Ghola glanced at Gangrel, who rocked the empty hammock back and forth.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," he said, after a moment.

"You needn't sleep in it if you do not wish to, there are blankets and pillows to spare," she said, waving her hands over the soggy driftwood in the firepit.

"Those don't look very flammable," Ghola said.

Water began to pool on the surface of the wood, popping and bubbling out of the fibers. With a wave of her long fingers the blobs of moisture floated into the air, away from the driftwood; with a flick the water splashed across the floor.

"Neat trick!" Ghola added.

The Turtle took the torch from beside the pit and lowered the flame into the pit. The wood blazed quickly.

"That would have been nice, during the rainy season," Gangrel said, coming closer to the fire. He held his hands out and enjoyed the warmth.

The Puppet-Turtle returned again, holding her skirt up as a reservoir The Turtle met her halfway across the room and scooped a good size fish out of the skirt-basket. She handled it, looking it in the eyes, caressing its gills, then returned it to the water and picked up another. This one she observed, then put a single digit against its head and it ceased moving.

Both Merciful Turtles looked at one and other, then the puppet turned and left again. The Turtle brought the fish back to the fire pit.

"There was a set of twins back in the village. They acted like that sometimes," Ghola said.

"What are twins?"

"One soul sharing two bodies," Ghola said.

"Cute, but incorrect," The Turtle said, creating a working surface of ice with a wave of her hand. She set the freshly deceased fish upon it and, with another flourish, created a blade of ice and began to skin dinner. "There are two types of twins," she began, going into a long soliloquy about things Gangrel didn't understand.

He nodded politely as she spoke.

"And, for you, an appetizer," she said, sliding the thin slices of fish onto a plate of ice.

She offered it to Gangrel, who stared at it without taking it.

"I'm not supposed to eat uncooked meat," he said nervously.

"I assure you, this is safe. It has a delicate texture, and a flavor entirely different than cooked fish. It will not harm you."

Tentatively, Gangrel took a sliver of fish-- cold and slightly sticky, it jiggled in a most unappetizing way as he stuck it in his mouth.

Chewing nervously, his eyebrows lifted suddenly. "It's weird... but in a good way."

"I will recommend that you not eat all fish this way," The Turtle said, watching as Gangrel ate. "You need the right type of fish, it must be a healthy fish, and you must eat it quickly and keep it cold. But variety is the spice of life.”

The Puppet returned again, this time carrying much more. Plants, jars, fish and strange other things.

"Excellent," The Turtle said. She helped her double with its armload of items and the two of them set to doing strange things. Chopping up plant roots, dismembering fish, twisting open jars, dropping things into the pot over the fire, which was beginning to steam.

Gangrel pulled one of the blankets out of the hammock and wrapped himself in it, sitting and watching. Ghola floated over to see if she could help, and was handed a wooden spoon, which she used to stir.

The next thing Gangrel knew he was being coaxed awake.

"Dinner is ready," The Turtle said, offering him a bowl.

Gangrel took it and yawned. "That smells amazing," he murmured.

"It has been close to a decade since I have been around mortals, and I forgot how pleasant your presence can be."

He smiled, then took a sip of the brothy soup. He froze at the taste, which was so strange, so unfamiliar, so amazing, and began to gulp it down as quickly as he could.

"Oh man, what is that taste?"

"Onion?" the Goddess asked, "Cumin? Paprika? Lotus? Fish?"

"It's not the onion, I've had that before, and it's good. But it's... it's like tears. But good."

"Tears," the Goddess stated bluntly.

"Salt!" Ghola said. "Salt was pretty valuable even before everyone died. You know, there's entire huge, huge, HUGE bodies of water full of it, out there."

"That sounds really tasty," Gangrel said, picking the solid foods out of the bowl with his fingers and eating them happily. "All of this is really good. Thank you very much, Goddess."

"Mortals," she said, exasperated, but amused, "so curious."

Gangrel's bowl was empty now. The Goddess took it and refilled it for him.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Gangrel asked.

"I am a divine creature, I do not need to eat."

"But, The Great Boar said that eating was one of life's pleasures-- one of the best reasons to take on physical form."

"My Sisters and I are quite different," The Turtle said. "I made this food for you. If I were to eat, it would be taking sustenance from you, and wasting it. The Great Goddess has always been one for excess, and the Fierce Goddess has always been one for, ah... living in the moment. I prefer prudence, and manners."

"Just one bite? It's really good," Gangrel insisted, offering her the bowl.

"It is yours, please," The Turtle insisted.

"Consider it a sacrifice to the Merciful Goddess, then."

She gave him a stern look, but smiled,"okay, at your insistence."

He handed her the bowl, and she took it and sipped, pausing for a moment. "You are correct, it is very good. Thank you," she said, handing it back.

Gangrel took it back and finished it quickly.

"Would you like to learn the prayer now?"

"Yes, please," he said eagerly.

"All right, stand and we shall practice the steps before I teach you the words."

Together, they raised their right hands, and practiced the steps he'd seen her do before. He only needed a little reminding regarding which feet to kneel on first.

"Good, once more. This is not the Fierce Prayer, speed and intensity is not an issue," The Turtle said.

"Yes, Goddess," he said obediently.

A second try, perfect this time. "You learn quickly."

"So I've been told, I don't really have anyone to compare to."

"You will meet many more people over the course of your life, this I promise you," The Turtle said, smiling.

"Yeah?" Gangrel said, smiling back, "I hope I meet them soon, it gets lonely in the valley."

"Yes, Child. Now, stand before me."

Gangrel did so. The Merciful Turtle looked at him softly. Raising her hand to her face, she placed a gentle kiss onto her fingertips, and brought them to Gangrel's head, touching him on the top of his head, then on each temple.

For an instant, he could feel the wisdom of the ages rushing past, brief glimpses of truths he couldn't understand, but he could feel them at the tips of his fingers, unknowable for now, but with time, entirely graspable. The universe was great and infinite and his to learn if he only tried.

"Oh," he whispered, raising a hand to his head. "I... wow."

"Repeat these words as you perform the prayer," The Turtle said. Gangrel shook his head and returned his attention to her.

She raised her hand, and bowed her head,"I am one. I never walk alone," she stepped in a circle.

She knelt to right knee, "the world is vast," she stood, "and the road is long," she knelt to her left knee, "under the burning sun, I have you," she rose to her tip toes, "in the light of the moon, I have you."

She spun. "I never stand alone," she knelt to her right knee, "reflection," she stood, "watch me," then her left "shadow," she stood, "follow me." She brought her left hand to the air as well. "I am not alone. Join me." She opened her eyes.

Gangrel closed his yes and repeated the words to himself, waving his hand in small gestures.

"Are you ready?"

"I am not alone. Not alone, yes-- I'm ready," he said.

"Excellent, show me."

Taking a deep breath, he repeated the Shadow Prayer, saying the words, doing the motions, "I am one, I never walk alone... The world is vast, and the road is long. Under the burning sun, I have you, in the light of the moon, I have you. I never stand alone. Reflection, watch me, Shadow, follow me. I am not alone. Join me."

Gangrel opened his eyes. Ghola burst out laughing.

The thing in front of him was definitely a thing. It could have loosely been interpreted to look like him, to someone with bad eyesight, and who was colorblind. And had never seen him before.

"Wow, that... is...Wrong. Definitely did something wrong," he said, grimacing and crossing his arms. The puppet-Gangrel crossed its arms too. It was a pale, humanoid creation, of dust and dirt and shadow, like a drawing in the sand pulled up into space. The only distinct part of it was a crown that matched Gangrel's perfectly.

"I'm sorry, I told you I didn't deserve this power," Gangrel said.

"No, this is very, very good for a beginning; you've created an articulate, mobile creation. Like all things, practice is key to improvement. I forget that others are not as all knowing as I am. Coincidental, really. You do not think highly of yourself. You are more than a crown, child."

"Remember your reflection, Gangrel?" Ghola asked.

Gangrel nodded and furrowed his brow in thought. The duplicate wavered out of focus for a moment, then returned. There was a resemblance now, beyond the crown; the colors were closer, though darker and tinged green. It was a little rough around the edges, like it had been chipped from stone, but still much closer than his first attempt.

Ghola giggled again, "we're gonna find you a mirror, so you can see yourself proper."

Gangrel looked at her, then back to the puppet. He waved his arm-- it waved its arm. He held his hand out to it, and it held out its own rough hand.

"And you're controlling it without an additional effort. No, Child, you show great talent."

"How do I get rid of it?" he asked.

"You must dismiss it."

"Okay, um... Thank you. I don't need your help anymore. You may go now," Gangrel said.

The puppet tilted its head at him, blinked, then gave a single nod and was gone in a puff of dust.

The Turtle's eyebrows peaked. "You will surprise us yet."

Gangrel wobbled, and sat down roghly, "Oh, that... that took a lot of magic."

"It can be an intensive spell; the more you put into it, the more you get out of it. I would say you put a lot into it that time."

"And that was all I got?"

"It was your first try, you did very, very well. You do not have a very good grasp of the subject matter, and did remarkable, all things considered. Now, however, I suggest you get some rest."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he said, getting back to his feet. "I think I want to try this hammock thing."

"If you wish," she said, holding the edge of the hammock for him.

After a failed attempt and a refusal for help he managed to get into the wobbling, rocking net.

"Comfortable?" The Goddess asked.

"Actually, yes. It's quite nice."

"Very well. If you need anything, I will know. Sleep well, Child."

She disappeared. The lantern over the fire pit extinguished, leaving him blackness, save for the light of the dying fire, and Ghola's lantern.

"The puppet you made was really silly," Ghola said quietly, chuckling.

"Oh, hush you," Gangrel teased back, wrapping up tightly in the dusty blankets. "This thing is really, really comfy," he added.

"Rub it in why don'tcha," she muttered, settling on a pillow beside his head. Her lantern wobbled and rolled on the pillows convex surface, glowing brightly through the knotted lengths of the hammock. Harsh, cross-crossed shadows shook on the walls.

"Ghola... Am I going to become someone else? Someone evil?"

"No, I don't think you could be evil if you wanted to," Ghola said.

"I have bad thoughts, sometimes."

"I know."

"Y-you do?"

"Everyone has bad thoughts. You don't act on them, and that's all that matters."

"But I could act on them, and it scares me."

"But you don't," she repeated, petting his hair gently. "It's okay to be scared of something you could do, if the fear keeps you from doing it."

"Cowardice is a sin."

"Yes, it is. Cowardice is fear of the unknown. If you don't do something because you're afraid something could happen, that's cowardice. You know what would happen, and you don't do it because it would be bad. Fear of the known is totally okay."

Gangrel nodded and closed his eyes, settling into his blankets. He turned his head one away. He sniffled, and turned his head back to Ghola.

"Is it useless?" he asked softly. "To fight the feelings? To fight the darkness? The Goddess... she said some things--"

"Always fight the darkness," Ghola said, stopping him.

"But... what if it's a battle I can't win?"

"I believe that you can win."

Gangrel stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows flicker.

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course I do. I believe in you. You need to believe in you too."

He sighed deeply. "I'll try my best."

"I know you will. Don't worry about it. Stick to your morals and just keep being you."

"Thank you, Ghola. Goodnight."

"G'night Gangrel."

He slowly drifted off to the sound of gurgle of fountains and occasional tinkling of stone beads. Ghola sat, and watched his peaceful face as he slept, and considered all the things they had learned today.

\----------

Gangrel awoke in the dark. After a moment of confusion Ghola spoke.

"Morning, maybe! I have no idea what time it is!"

Gangrel mumbled unintelligibly and struggled to get out of the hammock, which rocked and wobbled and clung around him. His leg slid past some blankets and through the netting and in his efforts to free himself the entire set up turned over and dumped him roughly on the floor-- but it kept his leg.

"Whee!" Ghola squealed.

The lights went up filling the room with dim blue light and Gangrel looked toward the center of the room which, despite being upside-down, was the same as it had been the night before. The Turtle crossed to him and pulled at the netting, loosing his leg.

He grunted as several heavy pillows joined him on the floor by way of his stomach.

"Good morning. The sun is will be rising soon, if you were curious. How did you sleep?"

"I slept wonderfully-- where can I go to... you know... go?"

"Outside, go straight across the path," the Goddess said. "Take one of the torches outside the door."

"Thank you," Gangrel said, and hurried off.

"Is he aware of his fate?" The Goddess asked, once he was gone.

"Are you still going on about that Ganondorf thing?" Ghola scoffed. "Gangrel is Gangrel."

"The sooner he accepts that there is a demon within him, the easier it will be on him," The Turtle said, turning a sorrowful eye to Ghola.

"Oh, that! Pssh, yeah, he came to grips with that a long time ago."

"You are quite blasé about that," The Turtle said. "He will eventually be consumed by a burning hate for all humanity. That is a serious affliction."

"Nah, he's better than that."

"You presume that child has a stronger will than the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, sure. Anger is exhausting, cuts your willpower drastically. And Gangrel has way, way to much survivor's guilt to ever give in to someone who wants to do nothing but destroy."

"You seem so certain."

"I believe in him, and he trusts me," Ghola said. "He won't disappoint me."

"Your trust may be your downfall," The Turtle said.

"No, trying to take a Light Arrow to the lung and keep going was my downfall. Her downfall. Whatever. You're just jealous you can't see his future clearly."

"When you are ready to leave, just let me know," The Turtle said, turning toward the door. "I can give you to an easier exit route."

"Thanks!" Gangrel called, splashing back toward the door. "But we need to go back for my stuff, and then I need to pray."

The Turtle turned aside, and revealed his pants, boots, swords, scarf and water skin sitting on the edge of the fire pit. "I have already brought them for you."

"Thank you!" He said, taking his pants and shaking them out. When no bugs fell out he began to pull them on, then paused. "Is the easier exit going to involve more swimming?"

The Turtle chuckled. "No, it will not. No worse than a light mist."

Gangrel nodded and finished buckling his pants. He poked around in the boots and frowned. "Aw, still damp."

"Allow me," The Turtle said, beckoning to the boots. They trembled in Gangrel's hands as the water was pulled from the material, forming a beautiful orb of clear, clean water. "I suggest knocking them out before you put them on. This does tend to free a lot of refuse." She flicked her fingers and the water dispersed and disappeared into the air.

He did as she advised, freeing nearly a handful of sand and dirt from their leather prison, and slipped his boots back on. "Better. Much better."

"Do you wish to pray before we leave?"

"I usually pray outside, but, you're a Goddess, so, please, where should I pray?"

"It is not where you pray, but how you pray, that matters," The Turtle said.

Gangrel nodded. "The Great Goddess joined me-- do you wish to join me?"

"No, but I will watch, if you do not mind."

"You're always watching, aren't you?"

"I am."

Gangrel nodded again, and took his neutral prayer pose. Just as in the previous morning, and every morning before that for as long as he could talk and walk, he went through the steps and motions of the prayer.

The Merciful Turtle watched him, hearing the words he spoke quietly, earnestly, to himself. Ghola looked at her, and she looked back at the tiny poe.

"I hope," The Turtle said softly, "very much, that you are right."

Ghola twisted and turned her lantern nervously. "I hope so too."

"Okay, we can go," Gangrel said.

The Turtle turned to him and smiled softly. "Very well. Go, with my blessing."

She held out her open palms, and raised them to the sky. A veil of mist swirled around Gangrel and Ghola, turning the world blank and white, coating them both in a thin sheen of moisture.

The mist churned and thickened, so dense he couldn't see past his own nose. As suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone and the two of them were standing, and floating respectively, beside the pond at the temple's entrance.

There was a faint bubbling from the center of the pond, and Gangrel and Ghola both looked.

"Maybe it's another turtle!" Ghola suggested.

Instead, a heart container floated up from the dark depths of the pond and floated above the water, spinning slowly.

Gangrel looked at down at his nice, dry clothes and frowned. He brightened immediately and reached for the heart, beckoning it to him.

It refused to move, spinning and mocking him in its own way.

"Of course," he muttered.

"At least out here you'll dry quickly," Ghola said brightly.

"If I fall in," Gangrel responded, stepping carefully on the slick pond stones carefully. A turtle, cleverly disguised as a rock, dashed away as he approached. "Glad he moved, I would have stepped on him-- why would an animal want to look like a rock so much?"

"So he doesn't get eaten, it's called camouflage."

"He's got a shell, what could eat him?"

"Anything stubborn enough. Some birds have long thin beaks and can stick 'em right into the holes. Others will pick 'em up and drop 'em, Ker-CRUNCH-splat!"

Gangrel stared at her, turning a little green. "Oh. Oh gosh... wow... I'm sorry turtle, I didn't know. Keep looking like a rock, good for you," he said, frowning and continuing onward.

At the edge of the rocks, he leaned and reached for the heart, trying desperately not to slip. He crouched and supported himself on one soggy arm. His snug bangle pulled against the water, but he forced his hand down anyway, gripping a stone and reaching.

Tiny fish swam up and nibbled at his fingertips.

"Hey, stop that, I'm not food," he said, wiggling his fingertips and watching them scatter.

Leaning further, stretching his free arm out and reaching as far as he could, his fingertips brushed against the heart container. "Almost," he grunted.

Lunging ever so slightly, he managed to grab the edge of the heart and rock back into place without falling in.

"I got it!" He called, turning and looking at Ghola. The heart gave a faint pulse and disappeared, just as the first one had, and he felt better.

"Ready to go, Ghola?"

"Sure, whenever you want! I was just watching that turtle."

"What turtle?"

"Right next to you-- on the right," Ghola said.

Gangrel looked, and saw a shallow stone in the water beside him. Rough and covered in wispy green pond-grass, it was a great place for a turtle to sit, but no turtle rested on it. Numerous small, finger sized fish swam around it, nibbling at the grasses and mud. A couple of larger fish, hand-length fish were feeding around the side of the rock.

"I'm still not seeing it," Gangrel said, watching as one of the larger fish-- a pretty silver and black creature-- swam around the rock.

The rock suddenly lunged, snapping the fish in two without an issue. All the other fish scattered, and Gangrel stared as the huge turtle snapped and splashed, gobbling up all the pieces of pretty fish. It turned a single yellow eye towards Gangrel, then dove off into the depths of the pond.

"He was a big one!" Ghola said, "they've got a nasty bite on 'em. I bet he coulda taken your hand off no problem."

Gangrel slowly and carefully backed away from the deep water, sliding his feet along the moist stones and watching all the rocks with hesitation.

"I would like to leave now," he choked.

"That is no attitude to have when you're about to head into the Temple of the Fierce Goddess," Ghola chided.

"I will be braver when I'm not next to sneaky, invisible monsters that could eat my hand," Gangrel said, heading into the relative safety of the illusion filled hall.

"You want invisible monsters," Ghola laughed, floating along beside him, "let me tell you about Wallmasters!"

"...What about them?" Gangrel asked hesitantly.

"They're invisible!" Ghola said, nodding sagely.

"Oh. I was expecting something more shocking."

"They're giant hands, from thumb to pinky they're wider than you are tall. If you attack it, it explodes into a BUNCH of tiny hands, as big as your face, which try to latch onto you and steal your life force."

Gangrel hesitated, then nodded, "yes, that's much more like what I was expecting. How do you know what they look like if they're invisible?"

"Sometimes they aren't invisible. I hear the appear in the Great Temple sometimes, but no where near the main foyer, so we didn't not-see any."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Gangrel said, not sounding nearly as glad as he claimed.


	8. Equal and Opposite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to the Shrine of the Fierce Goddess, where the Fierce Wolf dwells. What new truths does this empty temple hold?

The journey through the haunted wasteland was uneventful, even the cruel sandy winds didn't blow as harshly as usual.

"Thanks for your help!" Ghola called to the invisible wasteland guide.

"Thank you very much!" Gangrel said as well.

He turned and faced the temple, which loomed over them ominously. The low, rocky hills beyond eventually became the familiar valley he called home, but home itself seemed father away now than ever.

"Come on! Let's go see the Fierce Goddess!" Ghola cheered.

"I think I need a moment," Gangrel said.

"You aren't getting all scared again are you?"

"There is no shame in fear, only cowardice," he responded, not making eye contact.

Ghola flitted up to his face and cupped it in her tiny hands. "Courage is easy, you just jump straight in."

"Well... Cowardice is fear of the unknown, right?" Gangrel asked. So, courage is not fearing the unknown. But, I'm not facing the unknown. I know exactly whats in there, and it's scary."

"It's just the Fierce Goddess," Ghola said.

"Yes, and… she killed them. Everyone.”

"She didn't kill all of them," Ghola said, knowing it was weak defense. "She didn't kill Her."

"No, but her hero did. This Hero of Time, Hero of Courage-- he killed you! He killed Her, heartlessly. And I'm going to go in there, and she's going to tell me how brave he is, how wonderful he is, and.. and I don't care what a hero he was! Because he's a murderer!"

Gangrel winced and clutched his stomach.

Ghola patted his on the shoulder gently, and he glanced at her with nervous eyes.

"You don't know why he did it. Maybe he thought he needed too," Ghola said, shrugging.

"That doesn't make it better. That doesn't make it right," he said, forcing himself to breath calmly.

"Well, we should talk to her. We should find out."

"You make it all sound so easy," Gangrel bemoaned.

"It is easy. You just do it, and if there are consequences, well, we deal with those when we get to them."

The wind swirled around his feet, and he gave a slow, tired sigh.

"My tummy hurts," Gangrel whimpered.

"I bet it does," Ghola said. "Take a deep breath. You've come really far. The Goddess won't hurt you, I swear. As the last sorta-surviving acolyte, I'm basically the head of the Temple of the Fierce Goddess now-- after Maman. If I say the Fierce Goddess won't hurt you, then she won't hurt you."

"I'm not worried about her, I'm worried about me," he said. "I don't want to hear about Him. I don't want to think about Him. Because it makes me mad. It makes me really, really mad, and I don't want to... you know."

"Throw a tantrum and unleash unknown evils into the world?"

“That hasn’t happened.”

"No, but now that you're learning to use your innate hero powers, you're worried that's what could happen, but you don't need to," Ghola said. Then she giggled. "Not too long after you arrived in the valley-- less than a year, so you were still really small, you threw the biggest fit, it was amazing-- like, impressive amazing. You managed things I doubt you could do even now that you're starting to consciously master these things."

Gangrel clutched his head, blushing into his hands, "I don't wanna talk about when I was little, it was a long time ago, I'm practically grown now."

"You know that one spire that's cracked right in half, and the top chunk is wedged against the far hillside?"

"Yeah, I know it," he mumbled. "I always wondered what sort of storm could have done that."

"You."

"What? No, you're confused-- that thing is huge, like, almost two of me tall, I couldn't even move that now!"

"That's exactly what I just said," Ghola said, crossing her tiny arms. "You couldn't-- but you did it then, because you're amazing. You've always had these powers-- that's what innate means-- but they've been brought to the surface and you're learning to use them now and you're scared because power is scary. Don't be scared-- if crying, angry tantrum baby prince, with his snotty nose and all the willpower of a poopy diaper, didn't succumb to the evil inside, you aren't going to now."

"Ghola, what if I do? I don't want too, I don't plan too-- but if I do..."

"I will always protect you," Ghola said, crossing her arms. "If you go mad with evil, then I'll protect you from yourself."

They looked at each other for several moments, and then he smiled. "Thank you. That makes me feel better. Shall we go?"

"I've been waiting on you!" Ghola said, "Let's go see the Fierce Wolf!"

Gangrel took a deep breath and nodded. The doorway was still unblocked, appearing to lack any sort of door to begin with, the wind trailing sand across the wide threshold. Skulltulas still clicked and clacked along the walls, and green flames still sat in the lanterns along the looping, lowering pathways.

"Why don't I have to do the Fierce Prayer on this side of the temple?" Gangrel asked.

"The Haunted Wasteland is nearly impossible to navigate without a guide, and the guide won't let just anyone through."

"Oh, you made that seem easy too."

"Well, the guide knows the path, and she was a Gerudo, once upon a time. She recognized you as The Prince and went a little easy on you, not a lot of looping back and being challenging."

"That was nice of her. I wish you'd told me, so I could have thanked her more," he admitted.

"Nah, she wouldn't have admitted that was what she was doing anyway. Too much pride."

"Oh," Gangrel said. He approached the thin walkway and peered down in the darkness. "I'm not as scared this time."

"Good. The Goddess wouldn't like that."

"Well, I'm still a bit scared. But, if I have to deal with that, then she'll just have to deal with it too," he said, "there's no shame in fear, only cowardice. And I'm here, aren't I?"

Just on the edge of hearing, there was a hint of a whimper in the air.

"Hm?" Ghola said.

"I... I didn't say anything."

"Shh, not you," Ghola said, waving at him and looking away. "Yeah? No, I understand. I never learned that, but I'll do my best. No, he's pretty bright, I'm sure he can help. What?" Ghola giggled and whispered gently to the entity Gangrel couldn't hear, see or sense at all.

"I swear, on Life and Death," Ghola said, then turned back to Gangrel. "We have a task!"

"We're already here for a reason."

"Now we're here for two reasons, don't worry, it should't take very much time. I hope. Maybe. We'll find out-- Follow me!"

Ghola drifted back toward the entrance then down one of the walkway, which sloped down to the next lower level. Gangrel followed, trying to keep a comfortable distance between the skulltula covered walls and the gaping maw that didn't fill the center of the temple.

"Right over this way!" Ghola said, pointing through a doorway.

As Gangrel approached a large skulltula dropped from the ceiling like a pendulum and nearly knocked him over. With a yelp, he leapt back as the spider spun around swiping at him with its hard, hooked legs.

The tip of the skulltulas legs rubbed against the inner wall, and it's outer legs gave him only about a foot of clearance between it and a long, long fall.

"Just stab it and let's go."

Gangrel didn't even offer a response to the suggestion, instead trying to push the skulltula out of his way. The skulltula growled, it's hooked legs grabbing at the metal grate flooring and refusing to budge.

"If I push any harder, I think I'll rip it's leg off... I think I have to go around it."

"Just rip his legs off, they'll grow back!"

"No, that's awful!" Gangrel responded.

"They wouldn't go to waste! You could set 'em on fire, then eat 'em!"

"No," Gangrel said, stepping toward the side of the spider and carefully inching along the edge of the pit.

"Be careful," Ghola whimpered.

"Trust me, I am being very careful," Gangrel said, moving slowly. "I have enough room, and the floor here isn't slippery at all."

Fate, it seemed, did not like to be tempted. As he said that, the hard, scratchy and not at all slippery patch below him crunched and crumbled into reddish dust. Waving his arms in a desperate dash for balance he reached forward and tried to grab anything but the skulltula. Though there was nothing in his reach, he felt himself physically pulled forward and tumbled onto the walkway.

He laid there, stunned, for several breaths before speaking. "I... I think I just learned something."

"Just kill the spider next time?" Ghola snapped. "If I weren't dead that would have scared me to death!"

"The Great Goddess mentioned some rule, about actions having opposites; when I pushed the block it pushed back-- and how I could overcome that with practice," Gangrel said. He looked down at his hands, dirty with dust and small metal flakes. "When I reached, I tried to pull myself back up... and the stones pulled back."

"I don't think equal and opposite works like that," Ghola said, rubbing the back of her hood and gazing down at him. "But, I guess, since you just did exactly that, maybe it does."

Gangrel continued to stare at his hands, grinning. "As long as I have a near enough surface, I can't fall down. I can't just pull or push anything-- I can move myself. I bet I could jump higher with this. And jump further."

"Just remember to account for momentum."

"What-um?"

"Never mind, later-- someone needs our help," Ghola said with a sigh, pointing in the doorway.

"Oh! Why didn't you say so! Whose in there? Can Poes even get into trou-"

A blood curdling scream cut him off mid-word.

Blood froze in his veins. Paralyzed, unable to even turn his head. Something lurched toward him out of the corner of his eye.

Suddenly he was free again and retreated out of the room so quickly he startled the skulltula outside. The arachnid gave a hiss and fell onto the pathway, stuck on its back and twitching

“What, in Goddesses' names, was that?"

"Gangrel, come back! She needs our help!" Ghola called from inside the room.

"No no no no, that was not an 'I need help' noise, that was a 'go away or I'll eat you' noise!"

"She's in no shape to hurt you-- she's slow, stupid and unarmed, you're fast, smart and have a multitude of weapons," Ghola said, peering out the doorway.

Gangrel eyed her hesitantly.

"Please, Gangrel. She needs help-- I have to help her, it's my job! It was my job. I need your help, I'm not sure what I'm doing."

Biting his lower lip, Gangrel hunched his shoulders and looked at the ground. Thescream still echoed in his ears. He took a deep breath and went back to the door.

"Thank you. Move slowly. Don't startle her, and she won't hurt you."

The thing had its back to him now and was crouched, arms around its knees, in the center of the room. It was stick thin, and leathery, like a dead thing in the back of a cool, dry cave.

"What is it?" Gangrel asked.

"She is not an It, Gangrel," Ghola said sharply. She floated over to the crouched thing, which ignored her nearly intangible form. The thing-- the woman-- merely groaned to itself softly and sadly. "She was a Gerudo once, and now she's ... this. They have many names. Lost Ones, Sad Ones, Re-Deads, Grave-lys. They're what happens, sometimes, when people can't let go."

"Like a poe? Unfinished business and that?"

"No, poes have it easy. Poes can finish their business, Poes can find peace on their own-- our friend here, and others like her, they had a task that, one way or another, can't be resolved. This," Ghola set a tiny handle gently atop the creatures head, and pet her brittle, crackling hairs. "This is guilt. Failure. Betrayal."

"Someone was supposed to be watching over her. Praying, chanting, talking to the corpse, it's just one of the duties a Fierce Priestess has. Preventing this is easy, it's part of an acolyte's training, but the ... the acolyte wasn't here." Ghola wrung her tiny hands nervously. "And I don't have the training for this, but between the two of us, I know we can figure this out."

"Why not ask the Goddess? We're in her temple, she's around here somewhere, right?"

Ghola turned on him and put her hands at her hips, "Do you know how amazing it is that you've spoken to the Goddesses? Five years training to be a priestess of the Fierce Goddess and She got to see the Goddess ONCE. Never got to speak to her directly, or even be hear her voice-- and in three days, you've been spoken too, and spoke with, all three Goddesses. Do you understand how special you are? How special that makes you?"

"Ah, I-I don't-- I didn't-- I'm sorry, Ghola, I had no idea--"

"Oh, stop simpering. You're the Prince. It's your job to be special," she said waving her hand dismissively. "But normal people-- and even extraordinary poes-- aren't allowed to ask the Goddess to solve all their problems. This Lost One, this woman, was my responsibility, and I wasn't there for her, and she's spent the last decade suffering because I screwed up."

Gangrel looked at Ghola, but she refused to make eye contact.

"And, if I had to make the choice again, knowing what I know now... I would do the same thing. I'm sorry," Ghola whispered, running a gentle, tiny hand down the leathery skin of the creature's face.

The Re-dead woman's head turned up and toward Ghola, and Gangrel got his first good look at her face. Her skin was dusty and smooth, dried out and preserved; her eyes had rotted away a long, long time ago, and were just sunken patches of flesh dipping deep into the sockets of her skull. Her nose was small and withered, scrunched up to just two large nostrils perched above her taut, thin lips that had been shrunken away from her faintly yellow teeth. Her ears were just shriveled lumps, like fruit skin left out in the sun. Despite years of decay, she looked human. Old and dead, but human.

"You poor woman," Gangrel said softly.

She moaned softly and her head rolled loosely on her neck.

"I'm sorry I was scared of you," Gangrel told her, "you screamed. It startled me, very badly. But, we're going to help you. I promise."

Her bony, dried hands raised and reached for him.

He took one of her hands and clutched it between both of his.

The low, constant moan she had been emitting eased to a stop.

"It's going to be okay."

Ghola set herself down on Gangrel's head. "She trusts you. There are several ways to deal with these lost souls, or so I've heard. Most people, I'm sorry to say, slay them. Destroying the vessel will cause the soul of be free, but it's hardly a peaceful or appropriate way of dealing with them. Sunlight paralyzes them, and they can be destroyed without as much violence or trauma, but it's still just destroying the vessel."

"How could someone look at someone in this condition and attack them?"

"Most people aren't as accustomed to death as you. And, well..." Ghola said nervously, "if they don't trust you, or if you startle them... they do attack. They're slow at first, but when they're close enough, they just grab onto you and start biting."

Gangrel frozen, his hands still holding the mummified hand of the Re-dead.

"But don't worry, she likes you. She's not going to attack you unless you do something stupid like scream or jerk away suddenly," Ghola said happily. She continued, "now I know the ideal way to deal with this is praying over the body the first night, which helps the Goddess lead them to the afterlife. But, way too late for that. Now we need to, uh... convince her she doesn't need to suffer? This happens because she thinks she deserves this, so..."

"No one deserves this," Gangrel said.

"But the people who do deserve it, don't think they deserve it. It makes this even more sad, because the people who fall victim to this are usually good people who make mistakes. You have to feel guilt to become this."

"I see," Gangrel said. He nodded, and looked into the Re-dead's sunken sockets. "I don't know what happened to you, but you blame yourself. You shouldn't do that. People make mistakes-- horrible ones, sometimes, but that's just what living is. I'm sorry that it's too late to change your mistake, but... it is. It's far, far too late."

"Me, and her, and you. We're pretty much the last of the Gerudo. Everyone else is gone," he said, patting her hand. "It's not a good thing. It's a pretty bad thing, but it also means that no one is angry with you anymore, if they ever were. You've punished yourself for a long time, and you're the only one who remembers the crime you think you committed. If you did commit a crime, then, you're forgiven for it. I am the Prince of the Gerudo, and I pardon you of any mortal crimes you have committed. Go, and be at peace, and if the Goddesses find guilt in you, then your fate is their decision, but you've punished yourself enough."

There was silence, save for the distant grinding of skulltulas. The re-dead gave the faintest of sighs, and then slowly collapsed. Her body crumbled to dust and in the remains sat a heart.

"Wow, you musta hit the nail on the head with one of those statements. I didn't know it was that easy! Good job! Have a heart! Breakfast of heroes!"

Gangrel fished the heart from the dust and immediately felt a bit better as it faded away.

"I'm glad I could help her," He said.

"The Goddess is also glad. Re-deads are neither alive, nor are they dead. She maintains the cycle of life and death, but the Re-deads are outside her domain, and it bothers her when they come to be. She wanted to ask us to deal with this before, but ... well-- oh, she wants me to stop telling you these things. And that, ignore that. She wants us to come see her."

"Why is she talking just to you? Is she still mad at me?" Gangrel asked.

Ghola was silent for a moment, then giggled, "she wants to talk to you in person, but she's a little scared--" Ghola jerked, then wilted visibly, "Hehehe, wasn't supposed to say that either-- maybe if you'd_ talk to him yourself_! -- Sorry, sorry, I know, that's not the right way to talk to a Goddess, but I'm a priestess, not a messenger. I am your devoted servant, and I will do as you ask, but if you're going to get snippy and make me choose between you and Ganny, I will always choose Ganny. Yes, he's a very kind and thoughtful boy. No I will not stop talking out loud."

Gangrel watched as Ghola argued seemingly by herself. 

"Well, good. We're on our way," Ghola concluded. She turned to Gangrel, "let's go see the Goddess!"

"Ah... all right. Where is she?"

Ghola floated through the doorway and out onto the walkway, where she pointed down.

"Okay... how do we get down there?"

"With courage," Ghola said.

Gangrel looked over the edge, at the criss-crossing paths and walkways, and the dark, misty depths of the pit below. There were no pathways directly below him, nothing to catch him if he fell; looking down he could feel his knees threaten to betray him, just at the thought.

"I almost fell already," he reminded himself quietly. He thought quietly. "Power is straight forward, and Wisdom is hard work."

"Yep!" Ghola said, "and Courage is--"

"A leap of faith," Gangrel concluded.

He took a deep breath and leapt off the pathway.

Ghola yelled something as he jumped, but her words were lost to the wind rushing past his ears, jingling his earrings together and whipping at his scarf.

There were lanterns below him, beyond the fog, becoming more clear as he quickly approached. All his doubts suddenly surfaced at once.

Jump right in. Courage is a leap of faith-- but faith in what? Leaping blindly into something could be considered brave, but it was also stupid. Luckily, he wasn't stupid. There was an answer to this.

He thought about pushing and pulling, equal and opposite. He remembered setting his hand upon the Boar's snout and the knowledge of the universe he briefly possessed. He could clearly see the ground now, and he pushed it away with an unmeasurable amount of force-- in his mind, it felt right, so he hoped the faith he had in himself was the correct faith to have.

He was about to act when the winds picked up around her, whirling and slowing him, until he gently landed on the ground below.

"Gangrel! Are you okay!?" Ghola yelled, rushing to his side.

"I didn't have to do anything! I'm fine!"

"Good! Cause I'm gonna kill ya for scaring me!"

"You told me that Courage was a leap of faith-- I believed you and we were both right" He said. "Besides, I had an idea."

"Doing what, pushing the ground away? With how much force, dummy?! I told you were would talk about momentum later!"

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me what momentum was."

"It's... it's science. If something is moving, and you stop it, the power behind it has to go somewhere. That's why when you run you have to slow down, or skid to a stop, or something. If you're falling and you try to stop yourself, you're still just stopping yourself! A sudden stop is a sudden stop and best case scenario you hold out your arm and do your pushy Power magic thing and sudden stop goes all up your arm and breaks it into a bunch of pieces!"

Gangrel stared at her, then at his arm. "Oh," he said.

"If you're going to go throwing yourself around using magic powers, have fun, but PRACTICE first! Ugh! I was so scared I was gonna have a heart attack-- and I don't have a heart!"

"I'm sorry Ghola, I didn't know. There's a lot of things I don't know, you... heh, you know that," he said.

"Ask me if it's safe next time!"

"Okay, I will-- but you have to promise you won't get annoyed if it's a stupid question."

Ghola's glowing eyes narrowed at him, then darted sideways. "Hmmm.... fine. Deal."

Gangrel looked around the clearing. A circle of torches, burning with magical green flames, cast the area in a lively glow. The ground was covered in what looked like grass, but not the fragrant, golden grasses he was familiar with. It was short, soft, thick and green. In the center of the torches, the grass was matted down, like something large had been bedding there.

The wind wove mournfully through the darkness beyond the torches, whistling a familiar, but painful tune. Padded foot steps were just audible.

"Hey, Goddess, where are you?"

"Ghola, don't be rude!"

"I'm not being rude, I'm being familiar. After today-- after the last few days-- I feel much more friendly toward the deities. I am the Prince’s best friend after all, I’m special by association!”

"Please don't mind her, Goddess. She's... she's outspoken. Death has left her weary and she speaks without thinking. I apologize, on her behalf and on my own."

_Don't apologize_.

The voice did not resonant with nearly as much vigor as it had the first time he had heard it. It was still a high and powerful voice, but it sounded regretful this time.

"Goddess?"

From the darkness the green-black hide of the Fierce Wolf slunk forward. Her ears were back and low, and her eyebrows knit. She came within a few feet of the circle of torches and settled to the ground, her huge form hunched and meek. _Don't apologize to me, _she said, her huge jaw resting on the grass, _I am sorry._

"Y-you have done nothing wrong, Goddess" Gangrel said, bowing low, holding his crown in place. In the shadow of the giant wolf, his knees shook ever so slightly, his memories crying of howling winds. He swallowed his nerves and met her eyes.

_No! _she barked, her huge shaggy head shooting up and nipping at the air in front of her. She settled back to the ground and one huge paw settled over her muzzle. _I was wrong. Clouded by emotion, by praise and pride and love. Will you forgive me?_

"I know of nothing to forgive--"

_I betrayed the hospitality of the desert and chased you from my home. I judged you by unfair guidelines and accused you of cowardice. Will you forgive me?"_

"I brought fear into your temple, did I not? It is my place to apologize."

_No! No apologies! There is no sin in fear! You must have fear to have courage-- courage is fear defeated! You stared down a wolf,_ she said, creeping closer to him, _and the wolf blinked first._

"It's true, you did," Ghola said, looking at Gangrel.

Gangrel glanced at Ghola, then back to the Fierce Wolf, who was watching him with worried eyes.

_Nearly ten years ago, I aided the man who killed your family. I personally killed dozens of them. Will you forgive me?_

Words stuck in Gangrel's throat.

"I... I have been told that you had no choice in the matter. That he ordered, and you obeyed."

_This is true, but it does not change what I did. I am a Goddess, and I live to serve. I can not regret what I did, but I am sad it was done and that I was the one who had to do it._

"You did what you had to do," Gangrel said. "I can't blame you any more than I can blame the sword that cut them down. But, if it is what you want to hear, then yes, I forgive you."

_ You are very brave, to forgive me,_ the Wolf said, her ears perking._ I like brave people._

Gangrel gave half a smile, but it was insincere. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

_I understand if you do not like me very much,_ she said.

A small gasp escaped him; his knees shook again, nearly dropping him. A blush of shame crept up is cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, Goddess... I just... It's been a very eye-opening couple of days. The man who killed my family, and the woman who gave the order, they have names now. He's not just a shadow in my nightmares anymore, they're real," he gave a thick sniffle and rubbed at his eyes, turning away from the Goddess and hiding his face, "And they are good, loved people, I guess. They killed everyone, and that's... that's good, and I don't... I... I want to believe... a Goddess wouldn't lie to me, right? But, they're dead... and... and I'm alone... and... and... I can't! I can't see that its good! I can't! Am I wrong? Is everything I know wrong? Am I the bad guy?"

The wolf crept toward him, putting one paw on either side of him and nuzzling him with her huge, warm muzzle, nearly knocking him over.

_It was a terrible and tragic event that never should have happened. But, it did, so that is that. And it was always to happen-- somewhere, somehow-- because all things happen._

"I don't understand."

_All things happen._ She repeated, _every choice you make splits the universe into numerous new timelines. For every action you do, there is a universe where you did not. For every choice you make, the other choice occurs as well. Not just you, but everyone. Time is not a simple journey from then to now. It is an infinitely expanding explosion of possibilities and change!_

"Every choice I make?"

_Every single choice everyone has ever made. You, Ghola, your friend Falon, her grandmother Malon, young Saria, Link and Zelda-- every person who lives makes choices that matter._

"But... the Merciful Goddess... she said--"

_What does that soggy old tortoise know? Wisdom and history, sure, but the only future she sees is the future she will be a part of. Her great and godly power is to be boring and predictable! Your future does not have to be her future._

"Really? I can change the future?"

_You are always changing the future._

"All things happen. So... in a way, my family is alive, somewhere."

The Wolf grimaced and shook her shaggy head before lowering her ears nervously. _I do not want to give you false hope. In infinite different somewheres, they are alive, but you exist in this timeline, and the two will never cross._

"Oh, oh oh!" Ghola squeaked, raising her hand and bouncing in the air. "But that means that any time you make a mistake and you're sad about it, you can be happy that somewhere else you succeeded! By failing, you have guaranteed victory for a different you!"

"So... if I do the things I don't want to do, that means that somewhere, I didn't have to do them."

_You may look at it that way, if you like._

"But... if I make a good choice, then that means that somewhere, I'm causing myself to fail..."

_I do not suggest accepting that particular paradigm. The universe may split with each choice, but the choice you make is Your Choice. You can't take responsibility for the entirety of causality, only for yourself. You make the choices, you shape the world. You feel the fear that fuels courage, you feel the seconds tick by with the beat of your heart, and you feel the wind that blows, carrying the breath of life to all things, because you are You._

"I am me," Gangrel repeated.

The wolf grinned, her tongue lolling from her long thin muzzle as her ears perked.

_May I tell you a story?_

"The other Goddesses did-- if the pattern continues, I will not very happy to hear this story, but I... I would like to know all sides of this."

_Sit, and I will tell you a story of a little boy very much like yourself. He was taken to a distant, secluded place by a loved one who was fleeing the ravages of battle. She died, but not before begging the local spirits to protect him. They were well meaning, but ill-prepared, as the flippant and distractible spirits were not ideal parental figures._

_ You grew in the harsh desert, tempered under the sun and watched over by the caring eyes of your ancestors; he was not so lucky. He was raised in the forest, living a peaceful and lazy life, watched over by the immature spirits of the trees and unsympathetic fairy allies. They teased him, for no fairies had chosen him as a companion-- fairies live short, emotional lives and enjoy the reliability of tree spirits much more than mortals._

_ One day, the leader of the village sent a fairy to the boy, and suddenly he fit in. It was, briefly, the happiest moment of his life. Then, everything he had ever known was taken from him. He was given a sword and shield, a sacred stone and a task, and sent out into a world he didn't know. The boy, even younger than you at this point, did as he was told-- he was a very obedient and loyal boy, who always obeyed and trusted his elders, no matter how dangerous the order was._

_ He left the forest, for the first time since he had arrived, where he met a wise creature, who told him more dangerous things he had to do. The creature spoke of the welfare of the world, and the safety of the kingdom, and the child listened and obeyed him._

_ This order brought him to Hyrule Castle, where he met the Princess. You have heard her story-- she told the Boy, who you know to be Link-- that he had to find the other two Spiritual Stones. She was the Princess-- a future leader of men-- so he obeyed. He went on a grand journey, and found the Stones; he also saw many places and made many friends. When he returned with the Stones he found the Princess fleeing the castle, pursued by a powerful and imposing man-- Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo._

"He chased them out of their home?" Gangrel whispered.

_ Yes and no. He intended to imprison them, for they were too powerful to let go, but too disobedient to leave to their own devices. They fled to preserve their own freedom. The Princess left Link a magical instrument and told him to enter the Temple of Time. So, he obeyed._

_ That was his mistake._

_ Placing the Spiritual Stones and playing the Ocarina of Time opened the temples locks, and allowed Ganondorf to access the Sacred Realm, and the very thing they were trying to keep him from._

_ Worse, for Link at least, the opening of the door the Sacred Realm awoke the Sages-- mortals with innate magical abilities that help maintain the balance in Hyrule. The only fully awakened Sage at that time was the Sage of Light, who used his powers to secure Link in the Sacred Realm for seven years, so he would grow enough to be able to wield the Sword of Evil's Bane._

"Is... is that the long, white sword that glows with a cold light?" Gangrel asked.

_Yes... it is the same sword._

"I don't like that sword."

"You don't like any swords," Ghola added.

_Ah... yes, well. Link was never a ... thoughtful individual. He was courageous to a fault, obeying and leaping into the fray. He awoke, he was given his task, and he did it. Along the way he discovered that many of the people he'd met on his journey to collect the Spiritual Stones had been killed over the past seven years. He had met all of the sages, and befriended them-- and due to his failures, in allowing Ganondorf to rise to power, they were gone now. His brother-in-arms among the Gorons, a Zora who cherished him, his best and only friend from the village of his childhood... all of them were dead, because he had opened the Temple of Time._

"Oh no..."

_And, he had to accept that this, because as sages, they couldn't fully awaken until they had left the mortal realm. They held no malice toward him._

"But, if he hadn't opened the temple, the sages wouldn't have awakened, and then they wouldn't have had to die. And Ganondorf wouldn't have gotten power either."

_Ganondorf is not innocent in this either. He knew that if the Sages fully awakened, they would give Link the abilities necessary to overthrow him, to bind him, so he sent his loyal subjects to the five Temples the Sages occupied, to keep the Sages busy-- to keep them alive._

_ It was Link's interference in the Temples that lead to the deaths-- and awakening-- of the sages. By fighting the creatures Ganondorf had sent there, the Sages were given the opportunity to ... awaken._

_ Remember, child, death is neither good, nor bad. It simply is a part of life._

_ With the Sages fully realized, Link, with Zelda's help, was able to overthrow Ganondorf. Zelda attempted to restore the timeline, and peace returned to Hyrule._

_ But peace did not return to Link. The final straw was the loss of his closest ally. The fairy who had joined him at the beginning of his journey, helped him the entire way, and faced all the danger with him, went away. Fairies are not long-lived creatures and she lived as long as she did only because of him. It took him a long, long time to come to terms with everything._

_And this story is not over yet, because Link's story is not over. You see, a decade ago, he discovered another dilemma. He was informed that Ganondorf could return-- and all the trouble, the turmoil he had gone through to be at peace with the world? That was overturned in an instant. He would do anything to stop Ganondorf from returning-- to stop himself from destroying everything he cared about again. He was ordered to kill the Gerudos, and out of fear for what could happen, and he obeyed._

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait," Ghola chirped. "Ganondorf was killed like, sixty years ago. The Hero of Time was ten when that happened. That means he's like... dead now!"

_He is getting on in years, but he has had a healthy life, _the Wolf said, _he eats well, gets exercise and lives in a clean, safe environment. It doesn't hurt that he's a holder of the triforce as well. It's magics are beyond even my full comprehension, and it has negated quite a few of the negative effects of aging in both Link and Zelda. They are both as healthy as mortals half their age._

Gangrel was quiet.

_Thoughts, child?_

"I still don't agree with what he did," Gangrel muttered. "But... I see that he might have thought he was right. He wasn't! But.. I do see."

_That will suffice, _the Wolf said, smiling a toothy grin.

"But, I do have a question. Ganondorf never rose to power-- Princess Zelda sent Link back in time, and they stopped Ganondorf and had him executed. So, the Temple of Time was never opened, so the Sages shouldn't have woken. None of this should have happened."

_Ideally, that would be true. Truthfully, time, and even reality itself, are not so simple. The Temple of Time-- and all the temples across the realm, exist in a state of quantum temporal susceptibility in relation to their respective sages._

She looked at the confused expression creeping across Gangrel's face and added._ It is very complicated. Suffice to say that if the Sages are awakened, they can not be un-awakened, even by an act of time travel._

"So, no matter what, Link couldn't save his friends?"

_There was nothing to save. By the nature of their very being, they were never really mortal, but merely powerful beings within mortal shells. The only thing that could have been done would be for him to go back and never befriend them._

"That... is really sad," Gangrel said.

_Indeed. But, now, I have a gift for you._ _My Great Sister drew out your innate powers, my Merciful Sister taught you a wise and resourceful prayer, and I, child, shall teach you courage, through confidence_

The huge wolf before him simple faded away, revealing a tall and slender woman. Like her sisters, she wore a crown graced with her holy symbol. She held out a hand to him, "your weapon, please."

While the Great Boar had been a huge and muscular woman, and the Merciful Turtle had been short and round, the Fierce Wolf was long and lean, like a desert rabbit. She was easily two heads taller than him, and took the proffered swords from him as though it were toys.

"Holy blades, these. Not yet, but with time, with experience, they will achieve their fate. A Fierce weapon-- my Great Sister prefers great swords, diving into the fray with unblockable fury. while my Merciful Sister prefers the bow, taking the offense to a safe distance-- but myself, I prefer a balanced weapon. Defense and offense," she said, sliding a foot behind her and holding the swords aloft before her, one high and one low. She flourished the blades showily, swishing this way, sliding that way, crossing them and pushing an invisible foe away. She offered them back to him before holding her hands out and, with a flash of light and a slight wind, summoning her own.

"First, we practice form," she said.

Gangrel stared at her for a moment, then dropped the swords. "I don't want to fight you!"

"In a fight, I would destroy you. We are sparring. I am teaching you to use your weapons."

"I don't want to use them! Weapons are for killing! I don't kill!"

"Weapons are for defending yourself-- If you know how to use them, you needn't be afraid of killing anyone."

With a flick of her wrist she swung the sword at him, slashing along his bicep,

He yelped and grabbed at his arm, but felt no hot blood or pain, just an annoying sting.

"These swords are one sided. To a stubborn attacker-- say a wolfos, or an octorok-- a good swat or two should be enough to discourage them. Harder than that, obviously, but I don't want to hurt you, just to demonstrate."

"I... I don't want to hurt anyone."

"It can not be avoided, sometimes," The Wolf said, flourishing the sword in her left hand. "But! This is good! Pain is life! It is the exclamation point of experience!" She spread her fingers, the swords disappearing as she gestured. "A life without pain is empty! Can you enjoy the cool peace of night if you have never known the searing touch of the sun?"

"When you know the pain of hunger, each meal is all the sweeter. When you know the agony of rejection, acceptance is all the more precious." She knelt before him and held his face with one hand looking into his eyes soulfully, "would you cherish life so greatly, if you have not lost so much?"

He said nothing, mostly because of her grip she had on his face.

"To cause pain needlessly, that is cruel and uncalled for. But, to give the gift of experience-- the gift of warning, of wariness, why, that is the path of kindness," she stood and waved her arms. "You are beset upon by a snarling and hungry wolfos. You give him a wary smack with your sword," the sword returned to her grasp as she mimed the action. "He yelps and runs away, wiser now. He won't approach another traveller so soon. You have saved your own life, and spared him. If the next traveller to cross his path is unable to defend themselves, but it doesn't matter, for that wolfos won't come near them-- if they can defend them self, that wolfos is spared for not attacking a less pacifistic person."

"Now, take your swords and let me show you how to use them!"

Gangrel gripped the sword hilts nervously.

"What if I mess up and hurt someone?"

"The better you know how to use your weapons, the safer they are in your hands. Harm is easy, but killing someone is not as easy as you think. These blades," she said, holding up the twin swords, "are not the swords that struck down your family."

"I know," he said, "I know that. But it's not the weapon, it's... it's the power. I have to know learn how to kill, so I know what I shouldn't do! But knowing how is the first step in killing!"

"You hold the Triforce of Power. You could kill a person with your bare hands if you so wished-- would you chop them off to save the world the risk?"

"No, that's... no, but I won't be a murderer! I won't be like him."

"He did what he thought was right."

"I won't be a man who thinks murder is ever right!"

"You are stubborn," The wolf snipped. "Ghola, any advice?"

"I've been trying to get him to kill things for days now-- think of all the rupees!"

"I don't need rupees!" Gangrel said. The grass around his feet rippled with his rising ire.

The wind whipped up suddenly, blowing around the mossy cavern and snapping him to attention.

"How about this:" the Wolf stated, with a voice as tense as a pre-storm calm, "I am your Goddess. I am giving you a gift, and you will accept it. How you use it is your choice."

Gangrel clutched his head and nodded, pushing away the dark thoughts that had invaded. "I apologize, Goddess. It was rude of me to refuse a gift. You're right. I trust you. Please teach me," he said, his hands gripping his sword hilts.

"It was rude," she said stiffly, then she smiled, "but I forgive you. We will start with poise and position, then defensive strategy, then offensive. Then practice-- this will be fun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter, but kinda a heavy one. I want to thank the 6 or 7 of you who have been reading this, I appreciate that anyone is bothering to read my OC fic.


	9. You Can't Go Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to the Memorial Valley; returning to the graveyard; returning Home.

The swords hit the soft ground soundlessly as Gangrel leapt, somersaulting away from the attack. Rolling back to his feet he twirled around and held his arms out, wrists twisted just so and held his stance. The Fierce Wolf spun toward him; the swords appeared in his hands, twin blades crossed, catching the approaching blade in scissor grip. He twisted aside, himself and the blades, dodging the other sword and pulling the first one from her grip.

Following through on the motion, he came around and hit her hand with the back of a sword. She gave a surprised, canine yelp and dropped the sword.

"Yay Gangrel!" Ghola cheered from the sidelines.

Thin chest heaving, he fell to a knee and rested, only nodding in Ghola's direction to indicate he'd heard her. The swords flashed back to his scabbards without him actually having to drop them this time.

"Very good-- very very good. You're a quick learner."

"So I've been told," he said politely.

"Very quickly," the Wolf said, patting him on the back. "Just a few hours and I'm willing to call you a near novice instead of a beginner. A few more days of this and you could almost call yourself a trained swordsman!"

"Day-days of this?" Gangrel asked, taking one last deep breath and pushing himself back upright. "No, I appreciate the offer, but I'd really like to get back home. I miss the valley. I miss my house, and my bed. Also, I've learned a lot, I need to tell Falon all about it, and I need to talk to Maman and the others, and figure out the best path for me to take."

"Maybe we should stay, just one more day, maybe?" Ghola suggested, peering sideways at the Goddess.

The Wolf looked back to her, glanced at Gangrel briefly, she looked upward, then gave a small nod.

"Or we could go back, if that's what you want," Ghola said brightly.

Gangrel looked between then with a small scowl. "Please include me in this, I know you're talking about something. I can handle anything you have to say."

"Very well--" The Wolf began.

"Wait-- I'll tell him," Ghola said quickly.

The Wolf nodded.

"Gangrel, Maman sent you on this journey for a reason. A specific reason. Because, well... Someone was coming to the Valley."

"What? But no one ever leaves the Valley-- except me, I guess... how could you know that someone was coming?"

"Falon told us."

"Falon was in the valley?! That's how Maman knew, oh man, I owe her so many more apologies... but, why didn't Falon tell me?"

"She knew who Falon was even before she was brought to Maman--"

"Brought to her? Was she captured? Did she get in trouble? Oh no, oh no, is she okay?" Gangrel's fretted, clasping and unclasping his fingers.

"She's fine-- well, okay, no... But, she will be,"

"What?! What happened?!"

"She's alive! She's sort of fine kinda, nobody did anything to her!" Ghola said quickly. "She came before sun up. It was dark still, and she tripped, or fell, I didn't see it... There was no way she was getting back up the hillside alone-- and no way we were letting you help her back."

"We have to go back to the valley now, I have to help her!"

"She's already been helped. The reason she came to warn us-- to warn you-- was because... well... Someone was coming. Looking for you, most likely."

"Someone." Gangrel stated.

"Yeah... and it's... it's probably Him. See, the Ranchers _know_ the Gerudo are dead, and the Hylians _know_ the Gerudo are dead, but the former Queen... Zelda knows the truth. She knows everything, and if she knows you're alive, then He knows you're alive and we weren't about to just hand you over to him! So.... so Maman sent you way."

"But what about Falon? You said she was hurt-- was someone watching over her? Did someone help her get home?"

"We have food and water, and there are old bed chambers in the temple. Maman's plan was to let Him come rescue her."

"WHAT?!" Gangrel yelled, leaping to his feet. "We can't let him see her-- he'll kill her!"

The Wolf grabbed Gangrel by the bicep before he could run off into the darkness of her sanctum. "He will not harm her. Why would he do that?"

"Because she's my friend."

"Yes, she is. Why would he kill her?"

“Because... he killed them to get to me... he-he hates me. He'll kill her, to hurt me."

"He does not hate you, Child. He does not know you. He hates a man who longs to return to this world through you, but if he met you, he would not hate you. Your friend Falon will be home soon, safe and sound. She will come to no harm under his watch. He has already left the valley, and they are traveling back to the ranch as we speak," the Wolf said, looking up into the vast darkness. "They travel slowly. At this rate they may reach the ranch before sunset."

"Oh, that's perfect!" Ghola said, "we have time, then! If we go over the hills we can pass through the ranch before them and head out into Hyrule Field! He'll never find us there-- won't even know to look for us!"

"But... Falon."

"We can come back later and tell her you're okay."

"But I need to know she's okay! And I... I don't want to leave my home."

"It's a graveyard, Gangrel. It was never a home."

"It is to me!"

"Well, it's not anymore! It's not safe."

"That's not fair! He... I..." Gangrel clutched at his stomach and winced. "He took my family, and now he's taken my home... He's taking everything, and doesn’t even hate me. He doesn’t even care.”

"Child," the Wolf began.

"It's because of you, isn't it?"

"Me?" the Wolf inquired, "I don't understand, but.."

Ghola rested a tiny hand on the Goddess' shoulder and shook her head swiftly.

Gangrel continued, paying no attention to either of them. His eyes were still shut, looking clearly at his target of his ire.

"You lie to me! Baiting me into hate, into anger," Gangrel yelled, his fists clenching even as his arms were wrapped around his middle.

His head lifted, his eyes shot open wide in shock, full of fear. Fear became anger as he screwed his eyes shut again, "No. NO!"

"Uh oh," Ghola murmured, looking around the temple clearing.

The Wolf turned to her with concern in her eyes.

"You're wrong! No amount of death will fix this! I won't be the man who chooses one life over another! I won't be the man who justifies death, and I won't be the man who thinks the world belongs to him!" Gangrel snarled.

Gangrel gritted his teeth, his eyes shut tight. "It is NOT my fault I couldn't stop him. It is not HIS fault he couldn't stop Ganondorf. Hate did this. Fear did this. YOU did this!"

The grass at his feet waved in an imperceptible wind, flowing like ripples in a pool.

"You keep taunting me, and testing me, and fighting me and I won't-- I WON'T let you corrupt me!"

"Be strong, Ganny," Ghola said, mostly to herself. Her eyes glowed with concern, then went blank for a moment and she turned to the Wolf. "Is this temple sturdy?"

"It has stood for many hundreds of years."

"But is it sturdy?"

"Carved from the living mountain stone itself. It will withstand even the most powerful mortal magics."

"Good, because this could get messy."

As the words were spoken, the ground jolted.

"But... But the world is full of terrible things," Gangrel growled, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes,"there are murderers and monsters, injustice and unfairness, burning sands and freezing winds. Beauty goes unappreciated, ambition is punished... This isn't how it should be. It should be perfect. It should be loved, and protected. Children shouldn't be orphans... little girls shouldn't be murdered..."

His voice trailed off and the ground began to quake. The circle of torches trembled and fell to the ground, dashing embers across the grass and extinguishing. A pale red light pulsed on the rippling grass. A skulltula fell from the temple above, hitting the ground with a sharp crack. It gave a sharp squeal and its legs curled towards its abdomen in death.

Gangrel's eyes snapped open, riddled with guilt, and the light riding on the waving grass crackled and intensified. "At what cost?!" he shouted, and the shaking ceased abruptly.

“You. You are just like them. Justifying what you want, calling your best interests justice. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU. Who do you think you are to choose what is right and what is wrong?"

The light at his feet prickled and shifted, flaring across the ground in pulsing, crackling waves, each bright glow casting scaly shadows across the ground.

"No," Gangrel snarled, peering into the darkness. "You are no God of mine. You did not create the land, life or laws, you want only conquest and death. I will not heed your words."

Gangrel turned sharply, looking over his shoulder, "No, I do not need you. I have my own power."

For a moment the light faded, but the shadow scales stayed, seeming to curl up away from the ground. Gangrel's shoulders shook.

"I don't need your hate! I am stronger than your hate."

The shadows retracted. Gangrel reeled back as though struck, then collapsed to his knees and the last traces of crackling light at his feet disappeared.

"No, I don't hate him," Gangrel whispered. "I don't even hate you. Hate is pointless. It just brings more suffering. I've been angry for too long, and I won't be angry any more. Not because of him. And not because of you. Maybe I can't fight you forever, but I will never, ever surrender to you."

The Wolf mad a concerned noise and crept toward Gangrel cautiously.

Ghola looked at her, "would you believe this was not his worst tantrum? Most chatty though."

"Tantrum?" The Wolf inquired. "Acolyte, a tantrum involves a child kicking and screaming-- that was a battle of wills."

"Well, Gangrel won," Ghola said firmly. "Seriously, he didn't even go all spooky this time."

"This time? How many times has this happened?"

Ghola counted on her fingers idly. "... Five? If you count the fireball in the Desert Oasis. That wasn't really a tantrum but it coulda been. It was really scary the first time it happened, but also kinda cute in hindsight, because he was like this big," Ghola said, sinking to the ground.

"You are very calm about this," The Wolf said.

Ghola looked pensive for a moment, then nodded. "Well, he handled it just fine as an infant, and he's handling it even better as he grows up. And, if he fails and turns to the darkside, well, he's going to get such a talking to!"

As the two approached Gangrel he pushed himself upright and looked around the darkness, squinting. After a second of thought, he raised a fireball in the air to illuminate his surroundings.

"Ghola?" He called, looking toward the green glow of her lantern.

"You did good Ganny," she said, drifting up beside him.

"My head hurts," he said. "I've gotten angry before... But never like that. It spoke this time."

"And you did very well telling him no."

"It... He was very persistent."

"Yes, we heard," she said, nodding.

"I'm sorry I knocked your torches over," he said, turning to the Goddess.

"It's quite all right. Are you okay? Do you require healing?"

"No, I'm not hurt. He can't hurt me physically. He's gone, for now. And I think I know what I need to do. You said the sages were able to seal Ganondorf, right?"

"Yes, although it seems the seal needs to be strengthened," the wolf admitted, lifting one of the torches up and stabbing it into the soft ground. The torch instantly re-lit with its green flame.

"How does one speak to the sages?"

"The sages can speak to anyone, anywhere-- however, for you to speak to them, you would have to go to their temples and address them there. The Kokiri Forest, Death Mountain, Lake Hylia, the Desert Colossus, Kakariko Graveyard and the Temple of Time."

"The Merciful Goddess was right," Gangrel said, glancing at Ghola, "I guess we are going to go see Hyrule after all."

"Really? Yay! I always wanted to see Hyrule!" Ghola cheered, "when do we leave?"

"As soon as possible. I really do want to see Falon again, but, you're right. We need to take any advantages we can get. Over the hills and into Hyrule, and no one has to know." Gangrel said. "You mentioned six temples... which one is closest?"

"To us here? The Spirit Temple, but if you are heading out into Hyrule I believe the Water Temple is closest. If I may make a suggestion, a journey into the Kokiri Forest, to the Forest Temple, would probably be the best place to start. The Sage of the Forest is the most likely to be sympathetic to your plight."

"Forest Temple. Okay. I’m not sure what a forest is, so I’m … I’m excited to see new things," Gangrel admitted.

"Embrace that excitement, for the world is about to unfold before you," The Wolf said. She spread her arms and knelt, "come here, and let me give you my blessing."

He looked at her wide arms curiously, and moved toward her. She gestured ever so mildly with her wide arms; with some reluctance he held his arms out as well. She pulled him into a tight hug, lifting him off the ground and holding him. A moment of fear and confusion overtook him, his arms still stiffly held wide as she shook him playfully.

"Silly child," she laughed. She leaned the side of her face against his head tenderly.

His blood ran cold and his heart pounded like a caged cricket; everything that could go wrong flooded into his mind. All the pain, all the panic, all the worry, a weight on his shoulders like the world had flipped. Slowly, like the sunlight climbing over the cliffside, the horrors faded, never disappearing, just changing. Everything that didn't go wrong. All the pain that had been survived, all the panic that had been overcome, all the worry that inspired action. Carrying the weight of the world just meant that he was strong enough to carry anything. Everything. Time was an endless, vast, expanse before him, holding together the fabric of reality. Every decision he made, every choice, mattered.

The wind was blowing.

The single torch reflected in his wide, wondering eyes. Slowly, he closed his arms around the Wolf's neck and rested his forehead in the crook of her neck.

The Wolf smelled like damp winds, ancient stones within the heart of mountains and the moments after waking from a nightmare. "I'm scared."

Bright blue eyes shifted sideways, toward the firey-headed child held in her arms.

"Everyone is. All the time," she told him.

He took a ragged breath and nodded as she set him down.

"I do not have a heart container to give you," the Wolf lamented. "But I have one more gift for you. Take up your swords."

Gangrel did as he was told, holding the swords aloft.

As he did, there was a shimmer in the air, focusing around the blades. They changed, ever so slightly. The characters on the blade were different now, although he still didn't know what they meant, the blade was slightly longer, but lighter now. The grip was no longer simple polished wood, but metal and leather, with portion jutting out to the sides forming a cross.

"With the blessing of all three Goddesses, your weapon is reforged. You must discover its new abilities yourself, but its anatomy I can explain. This is a quitton, or cross-guard," The Wolf said. She conjured a sword herself and slid it down the length of the blade, stopping gently against the guard. "You generally don't want to let the enemy get this close, but if you do, that's what it's for."

"Thank you, Goddess," Gangrel said, sheathing the renewed blades.

The Wolf crouched and her form changed back to the shaggy, graceful canine form from before, but smaller and less ethereal. She trotted up beside him and stretched her forelegs out, then stood back up and shook herself. Glancing at him, her tongue lolled out of her thin muzzle in a canine smile. Licking her chops, she circled Gangrel then squirmed under him, hefting him easily on her back.

"Eep!"

_Hold on tightly. As tight as you can, you can't hurt me._

"O-okay, why?" Gangrel asked, leaning close and grabbing handfuls of the thick fur around her neck.

_Because if you fall, this won't be nearly as much fun._

She leapt into a gallop as the words finished forming in his mind and he nearly let go, but panic beat shock and he clung on as she circled the clearing, building speed. Midway through her third lap of the pit, she jerked to the side and leapt onto the vertical wall, running only a few meters before leaping away across the depths, bouncing back and forth over the gaping pit with wild abandon.

_YEEEEEE-HEHEHEHE-HAAA!_

Gangrel did not share her sentiments.

The wind rushed around them as she bounded from wall to wall, then wall to walkway, perhaps taking more jumps than was strictly necessary on her journey upwards. Dashing, leaping and twirling-- at one point, Gangrel was pretty sure she did a backflip, but his eyes were shut too tight to tell for certain-- finally she stopped.

Panting heartily, she sat down.

_You can let go now._

He did, and slid down her back, landing unceremoniously upon the cold stone floor.

"Jealousy!" Ghola yelled, shaking her lantern as she drifted up from the pit. "That looked really, really fun! So jealous."

Gangrel turned to her, hunching and wondering if his teeth would ever unclench. He said nothing, knowing if he could open his mouth his stomach would probably flop out of it, if his heart didn't burst out of his chest first.

"Hey, you okay Ganny?" Ghola asked, brushing his wind-blown hair down.

Gangrel hiccuped.

"Are you going to throw up?"

He considered this for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"Ah... ah... I'm...no. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Real convincing," Ghola teased.

"I'm fine," he said again.

"I heard you the first time."

"I'm fine."

The Wolf cuffed him with a paw. _Up and at 'em, Boy._

"Yeah, yeah, I'm... yeah," he muttered, lowering himself to the floor and trying to hug the stone.

"Time to get up. You can not dally here."

Life returned to Gangrel's eyes and he shoved himself upright, "Maman!"

"You have done very well, Son of Dragmire," Maman's voice said. "You continue to make me proud. But, you must move quickly."

"Maman, where are you?" Gangrel asked, looking around.

A wheezing sigh was her response.

"I am tired, my Prince. I wish to rest. You know the truth, and you can protect yourself now. You don't need me any more."

"B-but, I do! You... you're my Maman."

"Yes, and I always will be. I will always be with you, in your heart and memory, but you must leave the valley, and with the Gerudo gone from the valley, I can finally rest."

"But... what about the others?"

"Dear Child, most of them have been gone since the day they died. The spirit does not cling to this earth easily, and though many of them follow through with their routines. Mohani catches fish because in her life she was fisher, but she will sit with the same fish on her hook all day. Okaru was a wealthy merchant in her lifetime, but now she exists behind a fallen stone, selling handfuls of dust for pebbles, because that is all she knows. Kasuto was the oldest and most powerful of the Fierce Priestesses, she could sing down the wind, ward death away from the sick, bring life to the ailing, aware of the beating heart of every Gerudo in the entire Desert, and now... We are ghosts. Not Gerudo. Not anymore."

A gentle pressure rested against Gangrel's chest-- an invisible, barely tangible hand, right over his heart. "I will always be with you in spirit, but the world has little need of another empty shadow of days gone by. Be strong for me, Gangrel. Be strong for yourself."

"Maman," Gangrel whimpered, trying to stop the tears growing in his eyes. "I-I'll try. As hard as I can."

"I know you will."

Gangrel brushed the tears away from his eyes and swallowed his nervousness. "Come on," he said, his voice thick. "We have to go; we have to use the chance we've been given."

The Wolf nodded and tossed her head, gesturing toward the hall they had come from so few days ago. _Go, with the blessing of the Goddesses. _She turned her blue eyes back upon him. _Remember, the choices that shape your world are yours alone._

He nodded, remembering her earlier speech, "I feel the fear, I feel the seconds and I feel the wind. I won't forget, I promise."

The Wolf nodded.

"Goodbye Goddess! It was nice to finally meet you!" Ghola called, as Gangrel rushed down the hallway, back toward the familiar valley.

No enchantments or obstacles stood in their way, and the journey was much shorter than it had been on the first morning they'd set off. Running all the way, Gangrel reached the temple entrance in minutes, stopping in the archway as his eyes adjusted to the glaring desert sun.

At a glance, the valley was just as he'd left it. But as his eyes adjusted to the light, his heart adjusted to the truth.

"It... it's smaller than I remember," Gangrel said, looking out over the headstones and monuments.

"It's the same as it's always been," Ghola assured him.

"Well, it feels smaller. Everything does," he said, stepping down the stairs.

There were many less poes floating about. Only one called out to Gangrel as he walked through the valley, but she spoke casually, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about the day.

His mausoleum seemed untouched, its raggedy shrouds waving in the light breeze. He stopped and observed it. Thin, gauzy sheets, stray old grass blades from failed attempts as weaving, half-smudged drawings done with burnt sticks on the stone base. A hole-ridden old basket had been tipped over by the wind, spilling a young lifetime's worth of 'valuables' down the mausoleum steps. Shiny stones, knotted grasses, baby teeth, chunks of desert glass, butterfly wings and dried flower petals, drifting away on the hot, dry desert wind.

Four days ago, had he laid eyes upon his treasures, tumbling away back into the sands, he would have panicked and scrambled to recover the tiny baubles.

Today, he watched the pile of refuse cartwheel down the stairs and felt... An emotion he couldn't name. Regret, and loss; not for the toys themselves, but for the feelings they no longer brought.

"Nothing is ever going to be the same again, is it?" He asked.

"Nope!" Ghola said brightly, "But it never is. Everything is changing all the time. They say you can't cross the same river twice-- because the river is always flowing, even if it looks the same, the water is different, the sand has shifted, the fish have swam... Swum. Swimmed. They moved. If you wanna be all depressing, sometimes they say you can't go home again-- not because home changes, but because everything you do, and everywhere you go, changes you-- home might be the same but You are not. A completely new you goes home, and sees, and feels it differently. It might hurt, a little or a lot, for a little while, or a long time, but that's good because pain leads to healing, and healing leads to strength."

"A completely new me," he said, gazing down at his hands. "I'm not the same boy that left the valley. I am a new man, with a new goal."

"I'd say a new, slightly old boy," Ghola mumbled.

Gangrel ignored her and headed toward the steep, rocky hills at the far end of the valley. Up on the rocks, a guay watched him, before calling out once and taking flight, heading back into the desert. Thin clouds drifted overhead, sparse, white and lined with silver. The wind was blowing, moving them forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the beginning. Three blessings, just like three sacred stones. But that means there's still so much more to come.


End file.
